Harry Potter and the Legacy of Dragons
by SinSidhe
Summary: In the summer before Fifth Year, Harry finds a dragon egg. Having gained power, Harry must do everything he can to destroy Lord Voldemort, only now he is not alone. He has a dragon backing him up.
1. Chapter 1

**This story is dedicated to Bernie, coz I promised I would dedicate it to her... no real reason...**

The first week of the summer holidays found Harry James Potter trudging through the tall unkempt grass of the fields on the outskirts of Little Whinging, and the evening air was hot and stuffy. Since the moment he had returned to Privet Drive, Harry's mind was filled with the memories of what had occurred in the graveyard. Cedric dying, Voldemort returning, Harry felt like he had the right to be depressed. He had taken to escaping from the house, and walking to this last place of peace. It was always quiet, and what with the heat wave, most of the people in the area were taking shelter indoors. He reached the centre of the grassy wasteland, and dropped unceremoniously to the ground, flopping onto his back. He closed his eyes, and just lay there, trying to clear his mind. He knew he shouldn't be wandering away from the 'safety' of the house, but he didn't enjoy being cooped up with the Dursleys.

He hadn't told them about what had happened, and they were ignoring him, unless he had to do work. Away from Hogwarts, Harry was beginning to lose the will to continue to go on. People were dying, and Voldemort was back, and Harry was only fourteen! Well, fifteen in two months, but he was too young to have suffered so much misfortune. He lay on the ground, wallowing in self pity, until he heard a noise.

_Harry Potter... _

He sat bolt upright, and searched the area around him frantically. Not another attack, not now. He jumped to his feet, pulled out his wand and whirled around, searching his surroundings for a threat. After a minute with no movement, Harry frowned in confusion. He could have sworn he heard his name...

With his peace interrupted, Harry decided to head home. It was getting dark by now, and Dudley and his gang would soon begin their search for someone to beat up. Harry would rather it wasn't him. He put his wand back in his pocket, and began to head home.

_Harry Potter..._

Out came the wand again. He knew he hadn't been imagining things. He pointed his wand at the growing darkness. "Who's there! Show yourself, coward!" He readied himself for battle, lowering himself into a crouch, ready to jump out of the way of any spells.

_Harry Potter..._

There! The sound was definitely coming from the south. Being the Gryffindor he was, he ran in the direction of the danger. As he ran, he searched the area in front of him, constantly scanning.

_Harry Potter..._

_Harry Potter!_

_HARRY POTTER!_

Harry dropped to his knees, clutching his head in pain. It felt like the voice was ricocheting around in his skull. He fell forward, and his head came into contact with a hard rock. The voice stopped. Grumbling, Harry opened his eyes, rubbing his head, on of which he could feel a bruise forming. Upon seeing what it was he had hit his head of off, Harry yelped, and scrambled backwards, pointing his wand.

Before him, in a circle of blackened and burned grass, was a beautiful green stone. After a minute of pointing his wand at the stone, and it doing nothing, Harry sheepishly lowered his wand. Slowly, he edged towards the stone, fascinated by how the fading light glittered and danced across its emerald surface. Gingerly, he reached out and laid his hand on the smooth tone. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, he felt a tendril of magic leave his palm, and probe the stone. It felt strange, but not unlike the feeling of channelling his magic through his wand. Almost immediately after his magic touched the stone, it shook, and began to crack. Harry jerked his hand away, and sat transfixed as he watched the stone- no, the egg, begin to hatch.

It rocked back and forth, cracks appearing all over its surface, and then, a little green head poked its head out of a hole, experimentally. Harry sat very still, his mind going back to the last creature he had seen hatch from an egg such as this. Norbert, Hagrid's dragon. Harry's eyes widened with shock. A dragon? In Little Whinging? It really was just Harry's luck.

The little green creature continued to struggle out of the egg. Eventually, it had escaped, and Harry gaped in shock at the sight of the small green creature before him. It yawned widely, tiny pearly white fangs glistening in the light, and it shook of the membrane that covered it, the remnants of its time in the egg. Once the membrane was off, it unfurled its small wings. Harry gasped in surprise, and the little creatures head darted in his direction. Their eyes locked. Harry held up a hand, "Nice dragon..."

The dragon cocked its head to the side, and took an unsteady step in Harry's direction, before toppling over, as it had forgotten to close its wings. It mewed, and Harry chuckled, reaching out automatically to help it up. The moment his hand came close enough to the dragon, its head darted out, and gently bumped into Harry's hand, and immediately, he was filled with unimaginable pain. Harry lost consciousness.

When he came to, it was fully dark, he was lying on his back, and there was a burning sensation coming from his hand. He lifted his hand into view, and saw a strange silvery design on it. He tried to sit up, but a warm heavy weight on his chest prevented him from doing so. He looked down, and found himself face to face with the little hatchling. Harry held very still, and simply stared. The little dragon began to make a low humming noise, and rubbed its head against Harry's face. Along with this movement, Harry felt something brush against his mind. Strangely, it didn't feel wrong. In fact, Harry felt as if there had been something missing his entire life, and he was now finally complete. He smiled at the little dragon before him.

"Hello," he said softly, "Where did you come from?" The dragon made a little mewing sound again, and crawled forward on his chest so it could sniff his hair. Harry sat up gently, cradling his dragon in his arms so it wouldn't fall. The hatchling cuddled into his arms, burrowing into his shirt, and curled up. He gazed at it in fascination as it began to snore.

He simply sat, gazing at his new companion with wonder and awe. Without a doubt, he knew he loved this creature more than anything, and that he would not allow anything to harm it. He stroked its emerald green scales with a finger, and the dragon began humming in its sleep. He smiled softly.

_Shur'tugal ,_the mysterious voice echoed. Harry swivelled his head around, searching for a threat, hugging his dragon protectively to his chest.

_Eka weohnata néiat haina ono, Shur'tugal, I will not harm you, Dragonrider__, __this I promise to you in__the ancient language, _the voice echoed from the darkness again.

"Who are you?" Harry demanded into the darkness, "Stay away from us."

_I mean no harm, young Shur'tugal. The last true dragon has hatched for you. I have long awaited the day when a Dragonrider would once again walk this earth. That day is today, on the night of the __Agaetí Blödhren. Fortune truly smiles upon you._

"Who are you?" Harry repeated. The voice chuckled, the sound echoed by a deep rumbling.

_I am the spirit or memory, of the dragons. Once, I resided on the skins of the elves, but the days of the elves have long since passed, and without them to host me, I am weak. Too long have I wandered, searching for the companion to my charge, who had yet to hatch after many millennia. I had feared for the youngling, but now it seems he was simply waiting for you to be born, and to be ready for him. _

"The dragon is a he?" Harry asked stupidly.

The voice chuckled again, _Yes, he is a he, and now he is yours, and you are his. Your souls are both bonded together, and it is my purpose to teach you both the ways of the Dragons of old. If you would allow me, I would bond with you, as I did with the elves of old, so I may share my knowledge, and teach you the ways of the Dragonriders._

Perhaps it was Harry's impulsiveness when it came to dealing with dangerous situations, or perhaps it was the gut feeling Harry had that he could trust this spirit, but slowly, he held out his hand. A moment later, a shimmering streak of mist flew out of the darkness, and twined itself around his hand. Another flash of pain, and Harry once again sank into unconsciousness.

This time when he awoke, the sun was beginning to rise, and the sky was a soft pink colour. Harry was covered in dew, and he was curled around his dragon protectively. He felt different, stronger. He groaned, rubbed his eyes, and looked around. He froze. Rubbed his eyes? Where were his glasses? Harry searched the ground, found them, and picked them up. Wait a second, he searched the ground? He could see! Harry blinked around in awe. He jumped to his feet, and almost toppled over at the unexpected speed. Since when had he been able to move so fast?

_Since you became a Halfling, young Shur'tugal_, the dragon spirit rumbled in his mind.

'A Halfling?' Harry thought.

_Yes, half man, half elf. Though the elves are no more, their legacy now lives on in you, just as the legacy of the Dragonriders lives in you. I expect you look a bit different too, but you will have to look in a mirror to see_. The voice paused for a moment, _I looked through your memories as you slept, young one. To have suffered such hardship at so young an age... you are very brave._

Harry could feel his cheeks reddening, 'I did what anyone would do.'

The dragon laughed, _You did more than any normal man would have done. I am proud to be bonded to you, and I'm sure the hatchling will be full of praise for his partner once he grows up some. That reminds me, what will you call him?_

Harry scratched his head, 'Well I don't know any good dragon names... Wait a second, what should I be calling you?'

The dragon laughed, _I do not have a name... I am a spirit, but in times of old, I was often referred to as the 'Memory' by the elves, or __Manin. I suppose you can call me what you wish. As for your young hatchling, there are many fierce names for the green scaled dragons, but perhaps the most famous being Fírnen, the partner of the great elvish Queen Arya. Your dragons sire, I believe._

"Fírnen," Harry repeated to himself softly. "It sounds good, right. Yes, I'll call him Fírnen." As if aware of his new name even in his sleep, Fírnen uncurled himself from the little ball he had been sleeping in. He pranced over to Harry, and entwined himself around Harry's ankles. Harry laughed, and scooped Fírnen up, hugging him to his chest.

_You had best head home, although your missing presence will not have been noted, I am sure your headmaster will be sending Aurors to guard you over the holidays. Return home, and get some sleep. If have much to teach you, and you will need to be strong._

Upon returning to Number 4 Privet Drive, Harry crept along the side of the house, and used one of the gutters to climb up to his window. He was strong, and he was amazed at how easily he could scale the building. He levered open the window, and gracefully slid through it, Fírnen sitting on his head, clutching locks of hair in his small talons so as not to fall off. Once inside, Harry placed Fírnen on his pillow, and crept downstairs to raid the fridge, grabbing some meat, and bringing it back upstairs. His relatives were still asleep, and the combined snores of both Uncle Vernon and Dudley filled the house with noise. He crept back into his room on silent feet, and gave the meat to Fírnen, who began to hungrily chew on it.

Harry turned around, his own stomach rumbling, and was about to open his wardrobe to get his pyjamas, when he caught sight of his reflection. He still looked like himself, but at the same time, completely different. His black shaggy hair looked darker than before, and it looked softer, not as messy. His already vibrant emerald coloured eyed looked even brighter, and his pale skin looked milky, rather than its usual unhealthy pale. His features were finer, handsome, and his ears were now pointed. He had gotten taller, and he guessed he was about the same height as Ron now. He actually had muscles, and after taking off his shirt, he found he was ripped, no longer the little thin kid he had been when he left the house. Twining around his body was a beautiful multicoloured tattoo of a dragon. Its head was on his chest, and its body, limbs and wings curled around his chest, back, arms and legs.

'Manin?' he asked in his mind.

_I am the tattoo, Harry. This is my preferred form, and while on your skin, I can share with you all my power and knowledge. To you and Fírnen both._

'Thank you for finding me. I'll do my best to make you and Fírnen proud.'

_Oh Young One_, Manin chuckled softly, _we already are. The egg would not have hatched for you if you were not pure of heart. You are a hero, and one day, you will achieve greatness, and defeat your enemies. This, I promise you. No more being helpless in the face of danger. I will teach you to be strong, and when you are ready, that fool known as Lord Voldemort will not stand a chance. Go to sleep, you have a big few weeks ahead of you._

Harry changed clothes and got into bed. He lay down, and Fírnen curled himself around Harry's neck. Perhaps life wasn't so bad after all.

**Review if you want more, even if one person likes this, it's worth writing. Thanks for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

"Bla bla bla" - **Speech**  
'Bla bla bla' – **thinking**  
_Bla bla bla_ – **magical creature speech**

It was coming to the end of the summer, and in that time, Harry Potter had changed drastically. After his transformation, Harry discovered that although he could not perform magic with his wand for fear of the Ministry finding out, the magic that Manin was teaching him was a kind of undetectable wandless magic. Using his new magic, he had managed to disguise his now pointed ears, but he could not disguise his newly changed face. It was beyond his capabilities at that point in time, and he didn't want to risk mutilating his face.

Over the summer, Manin had gradually granted him some of his memories, such as the history of the Dragonriders, and he shared his knowledge of the Ancient Language. Although the language was complicated, over time, with Manin speaking it with him constantly, Harry had become fluent. They had discovered he didn't need to use words to do magic, though it did make the spells more powerful. As it turned out, although Harry had been transformed into a being similar to an elf, he was still a wizard at his core. Unlike the elves, Harry didn't use his life energy to create spells, but his magical core, which was constantly replenishing itself from the energies of the world around it like it did with all wizards, and after the transformation, Harry's magical core's capacity had increased exponentially.

When it came to sword fighting, however, he had not progressed as much as Manin would have liked. The spirit had been coaching Harry through basic sword fighting, self defence and martial arts, but it was not the same as having a sparring partner. Luckily, Harry had inherited his father's lightning fast Seeker reflexes, and with his new elven speed and strength, Manin was certain that when it came to a battle, Harry would be more than capable of looking after himself.

In this time, Fírnen had grown quite a lot. After a week, he had tripled in size, and after two, Harry had been forced to find a new place for Fírnen to live while they were in Privet Drive. In the end, they had relocated to an abandoned house near the field Harry had first found Fírnen's egg, and every day, and most nights since, Harry would go to the house to spend time with his dragon. Fírnen had mastered the English language, and coming to the end of the holidays, now towered over the newly tall Harry by about a metre and a half. Harry had asked the spirit if this was normal for a dragon of Fírnen's age, but the old dragon had just laughed, saying that after the amount of time Fírnen had spent in his egg, being big must be something of a relief.

Fírnen's scales shone like emeralds along his back, and his gem like eyes were almost the exact same colour as Harry's. He was an incredibly beautiful dragon, according to Manin, as many dragons of old had been dark, earthy colours. When talking about the colour scales, he had said something about Fírnen's parents being responsible for his magnificent colour.

The Dursleys had eventually noticed Harry's transformation, but when they questioned him, Harry had blamed it on being a wizard. After that, they had left him alone, not wanting to be contaminated by his strangeness anymore than they already feared they had been. Harry was fine with this, but it did cause him a lot of stress after he had considered what his friends would say when next they saw him. He hoped they wouldn't freak out too much...

Speaking of his friends, they had been evading all his questions about what was happening since Voldemort had returned, and being with the Dursleys, Harry had no way of knowing what was going on in the wizarding world. On his birthday, Hedwig had brought him the usual birthday cards, but yet again, no real information was given to him. He had resigned himself to suffer in his lack of knowledge until Dumbledore decided to get him out of this hellhole.

That day found Harry in the abandoned house with Fírnen. They had knocked out one of the walls so Fírnen could fit into the house, and the rooms were filled with books Harry had filled with his new knowledge, wooden swords that he had been practicing with, and numerous other things he had been using during his training such as weights he had stolen from Dudley, and other tools with which to exercise. Harry had never been fitter in his life, and with his new strength, he was for the first time positive that when it came to a battle with Lord Voldemort, perhaps he might prevail.

He was tickling the leathery skin behind Fírnen's jaw, causing the dragon to huff with the dragon equivalent of laughter, when he heard Manin's voice faintly in the back of his mind.

_Harry, Fírnen, there is something I must share with you_... Manin said quietly in the Ancient Language, his voice weak.

They both stopped in alarm. 'Manin?' Fírnen thought in concern, which was mirrored by Harry, "What is wrong? Why is your voice so faint, I can barely feel your presence in Harry's mind."

Manin chucked weakly, _I am afraid I must return to sleep_. Harry's eyes widened in alarm.

'What? But I thought now we were bonded, you had gotten stronger. Manin?' Harry was confused, was the dragon planning on leaving them?

_No_, Manin interjected forcefully, before his power wavered once again, _No, I am not leaving you. I am still on your skin, am I not?_ He sighed. _I have been awake too long. I have been wandering for countless millennia, protecting Fírnen's egg from those who would steal it while trying to keep my form together. Although I am now bonded, even in the times of old, the elves would only awaken me during the Blood-oath celebration. That day fell the night we found you, Harry, but I did not return to slumber. I had to train you, but now I must rest for a while._

Harry and Fírnen stared at each other in shock and fear. Could they survive without Manin to guide them? Harry was only fifteen, and Fírnen almost 3 months old. They needed him.

_Do no fear, younglings. I will not be gone. I survive on the combined energy that your cores supply. Were you a normal elf and dragon, my being conscious for this long would have drained all your energy, causing death. We are truly lucky that wizarding cores are so unique. No need to worry. In times of great need, I promise I will awaken, to guide you if needs be..._

His voice was slowly becoming quieter and quieter. 'Manin!' Harry thought desperately, 'What do we do? We still have so much to learn!'

Another laugh, _That I doubt, younglings. I have taught you everything you need to know. When the time is right, I will grant you more memories of your predecessor's pasts, but for now, continue training in what I have taught you, become strong, and defeat the evil that plagues this land. __Atra esterní ono thelduin. Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr. Un du evarínya ono varda. Farewell for now, my children..._

With that he was gone, and Fírnen let out a heartbreaking roar of despair. Harry quickly shushed him, hugging Fírnen while he calmed himself down.

'It's alright Fír, he's still here, and we're still together. Don't worry,' Harry soothed. Fírnen rumbled sadly, but laid his large head upon Harry's. Though he was too big to sit there any longer, it was where he was most comfortable. Harry staggered under the weight. "Jeez Fír, do you have rocks for brains? You're gonna smush my neck!" he yelled.

Fírnen hummed, before replying in his deep voice, 'If you didn't have such a puny neck, we wouldn't be having this problem.' Harry scowled, but it morphed into a smile, and he hugged Fírnen's head.

"Don't worry, we'll be fine. Soon we'll be going to Hogwarts, and you can live in the forest and beat the crap out of any magical creatures you want if they piss you off."

Fírnen gave a choking dragon laugh, and flexed his wings, which were curled tightly to his body. 'I wish to fly. I will return after dark so no muggles see me if your magic fails. Will you cast the Itchy spell?'

"It's not called the Itchy spell!" Harry exclaimed, affronted, "It's a disillusionment spell." He sighed as he realised Fírnen was ignoring him, examining one of his ivory, razor sharp talons. "You should be grateful. Wizarding magic doesn't work on dragons, so you shouldn't take my magic for granted. It's really hard!"

'I don't care,' Fírnen sniffed, 'It makes my scales itch. Therefore it is the Itchy spell. Deal with it, Plopper.'

Harry growled, but held out his right hand, the one with the silver mark, or Gedwëy ignasia as Manin had told them. He sighed at the thought of their now sleeping teacher, but was reassured by the comfortable warmth emanating from the tattoo. It meant Manin was still with him. He cast the spell, and his palm glowed silver for a moment, before fading. Fírnen squirmed uncomfortably, as his scales began to itch and Harry could not help but laugh at his discomfort. He stopped laughing a moment later when an invisible claw flicked him across the room.

"Oh, you're in for it now, you snot coloured fiend!" but Fírnen had already scrabbled out of the house through the hole, and unfurled his wings. Harry heard the thundering flap as his dragon soared away, visible only as a faint distortion in the air in the fading sunlight. Harry shook his head, and began to head home after packing up the stuff in the house, and shoving it all into a charmed bad that was bigger on the inside.

As he was walking towards the alley that was the shortest route home, he heard heavy footsteps. With his enhanced eye sight, and his other superior senses, he knew it was his large cousin, Dudley. Harry ran forward to catch up. "Hey Dudley." His cousin started at his sudden appearance, but nodded jerkily in reply. He was rather afraid of Harry, but had to admit that since Harry had changed at the start of the summer, he seemed to emit an aura of power and self confidence that caused Dudley to leave him alone, not wanting to bother someone he was certain could crush him like a bug.

"You heading home?" Harry asked, curiously. Dudley nodded again.

"Umm, yeah, I promised Mum I'd be back before it got too dark. Where were you? You're always disappearing lately," he narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

Harry shrugged, "Just wandering, meeting up with a friend, you know how it is." Dudley blinked stupidly, not understanding. Wait, Harry had friends? Just as he was about to question Harry further, his cousin grabbed his large arm in a strong, steel like grip. Dudley whimpered, and Harry loosened his grasp, sending Dudley an apologetic look, before returning his eyes to their scan of the alleyway. He was positive. Something was lurking in the shadows. Harry exhaled, and saw that his breath was a mist. The temperature was dropping, and Harry detected the feeling of despair begin to rise in his chest. He hissed in revulsion. Dementors.

He quickly shoved Dudley against the wall of the alley and held his hand over his cousin's mouth, and whispered, "Dudley, we're about to be attacked. I need you to stay right here, okay? I'm going to make a shield to keep you safe but you _can't _leave or you might die. Do you understand?" Dudley's eyes were wide with fright, but he nodded vigorously. Harry clapped his shoulder once, before stepping back, raising a hand, which glowed silver, and a green barrier appeared in a semicircle around Dudley. Dudley slid down the wall in fright, till he was curled in a ball on the ground. Harry winced in understanding. The effect of the Dementors was terrible. He raised his hands and took in his surroundings. The stars had faded from the sky, and two Dementors were slowly gliding towards him from opposite sides of the alley. He glared and them, and crushed the emotions they were trying to force him to experience. "I am no weakling, stay away from us." The Dementors paused for a moment, seemingly confused at the lack of reaction Harry was showing to their presence, before starting forward again.

Harry sighed in fake pity, "Well, you asked for it. BRISINGR!" Fire exploded from his hands and shot towards the Dementors. They tried to flee, but the blue flames hit them before they could escape. The flames began eating away at the creatures bodies. A few seconds later, and all that remained of the vile creatures were two piles of smoking ashes. Harry grinned, and dusted of his hands, the silvery glow fading away. He waved a hand, and the green barrier disappeared. Dudley was still curled up on the ground, and Harry crouched down next to him, and shook his arm gently. "Dudley, are you okay?"

Before Dudley could answer, Fírnen yelled in his mind, 'Harry!? Are you alright? Why did you just perform magic?!'

Harry sent his dragon calming thoughts, 'Calm down, I'm fine. Just a couple of Dementors, I dealt with them. Simple.'

'Oh,' Fírnen said in relief, 'Just a Dementor. You need me? There could be more.'

'Nah, Dudley's here. You better just head home. Besides, it's nothing I can't handle.' Harry could feel Fírnen's unhappiness at leaving Harry by himself when there was danger, but Harry was right. He could handle it. He was a Shur'tugal after all.

Harry returned his attention to the present, "- arry? Why aren't you answering me?!" Dudley's voice was quivering with fear.

"Sorry, cousin, I just got a bit distracted. Here," he reached into his pocket and pulled out one of the chocolate frogs Ron had sent him for his birthday, "Eat this, it'll make you feel better." Dudley accepted the chocolate and scarfed it down, licking the remnants off of his fingers.

"Uhh thanks." Harry held out a hand, and easily pulled Dudley to his feet. "Umm, thanks for saving me there," Dudley said uncomfortably.

"No problem, Dudley. We better hurry back, Aunt Petunia's probably having a panic attack."

They quickly began to leave the alley, but halted when a short figure popped up in front of them. "Harry! Is that you? Are you alright!? My god, Dementors, in Little Whinging!" Harry blinked at her in surprise.

"Mrs. Figg? You're a witch?"

"No, no, dear boy, I'm a squib! But that doesn't matter right now, where are the Dementors!?"

That explained why he didn't sense any magic coming from her. Harry rubbed his neck awkwardly, "Errr, they kinda got destroyed."

Mrs. Figg gaped at him in shock. "You destroyed _two Dementors_?"

Harry tried to think fast. If he told her that he had, everyone would now he had gotten new powers. He was already dreading the questions she would ask when she saw his face in the full light. The shadows were protecting him for now, but not for long. He made a decision.

"It wasn't me! It was a- errr- a mysterious man! In a... mask! Yes, a mask!"

Dudley stared at him in confusion, but thankfully said nothing. Luckily, Mrs. Figg seemed to believe him. "A masked man? Well, whoever he is, you owe him your life. I'll have to tell Albus about this. I _told_ them not to assign Mundungus to guard you for the summer, but _nooo,_ they just _had_ to send the most immature, idiotic-"

Harry tuned the rest of her words out. He hadn't detected anybody following him. He found that he was grateful to Mundungus for neglecting his duties to protect Harry. Maybe if he hadn't become a Rider, he might have felt the need to beat the crap out of Mundungus, but as he was now, he could not help but feel a little insulted that Dumbledore didn't think he could look after himself. Harry smiled to himself. Well, Dumbledore didn't know Harry had a dragon bonded to his soul. Awkward...

"Harry!" Mrs. Figg's voice interrupted Harry's thoughts again. "Dear Lord! When did you get so handsome?!"

Harry winced, and shuddered. So it begins...

**Thanks for reading, review if you want.**


	3. Chapter 3

Three days past with no news from Dumbledore or his friends. He had thought they would come and get him after the attack, but it seemed he would be staying in Privet Drive for the rest of the summer. He had sent Hedwig to Sirius, Ron and Hermione, with a letter each, asking them what was going to happen, but she had not returned. He would have been angry, if not for Fírnen keeping him company in his mind. The Dursleys had locked him in his room the moment he had returned for endangering Dudley's life with his magic. His cousin had surprised him, though. Dudley had defended him, even calling him a hero, but Harry's Aunt and Uncle were not convinced. They feared Harry had somehow cast a spell on Dudley, and they had told him he would get no more food until he removed it. Harry had rolled his eyes, and nodded in thanks to Dudley. He had tried his best. He climbed up the stairs to his room, and flopped down onto the bed, groaning as he heard Uncle Vernon lock the door from the outside.

Although confined to his room, Harry was not starving. Dudley had been sneaking him food, and every time he saw Harry, there was something akin to hero worship in his eyes. Harry was quite confused by this turn of events, as Dudley had never before so much as tolerated Harry's presence, but now he was going out of his way to help Harry in any way he could.

Harry had snuck out during the night to go visit Fírnen, but he didn't risk it during the day. Aunt Petunia periodically checked up on him, making sure he wasn't anywhere near her precious Dudley, and to bring him a glass of water. It was incredibly boring, and the only way Harry could think of to pass the time was play Eye spy with Fírnen. They would combine their vision, something Manin had taught them to do before he went to sleep, and they would spend hours on end playing.

Their latest game was interrupted by Uncle Vernon banging on the door, before charging into the room. He was wearing a suit, his hair was slicked back, and he looked even more repulsive than usual. Harry quickly blinked his eyes, separating his and Fírnen's vision, and his pupils returned to normal from the reptilian slit they had been while bonded to Fírnen. An unfortunate side affect, but one they didn't mind.

"Yes?" Harry asked, boredom apparent in his voice.

"We're going out. That is to say, myself, Petunia and Dudley are going out, _you _are staying. You may not leave your room for any reason, understand?"

"Yeah, yeah," Harry replied, waving his hand dismissively, which caused Vernon to turn a bright, beetroot red. He longed to hit the boy, but the last time he had tried, Harry had simply grabbed his fist, and refused to let go until Vernon promised not to hit him again. Though he had not harmed him, Vernon could feel the pure restrained strength in Harry's hand, and knew that if Harry so wished, he could crush Vernon's hand to a pulp. He abruptly turned around, and fled the room.

Harry sighed, and rubbed his face. He knew Vernon had been remembering their last confrontation, and he was proud of himself on how well he had handled it. If Manin had taught him anything, it was to never abuse his power. That would make him no better than Voldemort.

'Was the word 'walrus'?' Fírnen asked in his mind, as Harry bound their sight together again.

'What?' he thought back, 'Where the hell did you get walrus?'

'It is what the fat human resembles when he is angry,' Fírnen replied simply. Harry could not help but laugh at his dragons reasoning, before replying.

'Uncle Vernon wasn't in the room when we started the game. You can only pick stuff you see at that moment in time. I thought I explained that?' Fírnen remained silent, but Harry could feel embarrassment seep through their bond, 'Wait a second, have you just been picking random things this whole time?! I knew I couldn't be losing that badly!'

The game continued well into the night, the room growing steadily darker around him, but Harry noticed none of this, lost in his internal conversations with Fírnen. He was shocked out of it the moment he heard someone mutter and unlocking charm on the kitchen door downstairs. He had never been so thankful for his amazing hearing more than that moment. He lunged toward his magical training bag, and rummaged around until he found one of the steel daggers he had managed to create using magic over the summer.

'What do you think it is?' Fírnen demanded in his mind, 'I'm flying overhead, call me if you want me down there. I'll wreck the house if you need me to.' Harry sent his gratitude through the bond, and wordlessly unlocked the door with a wave of his hand. It swung open silently, and Harry crept down the stairs till he was standing outside the half open kitchen door. He entered the room, and silently crept behind the nearest person, and quick as a flash, had the dagger held across their neck.

"Get out of my house now, before I make you," he said menacingly to the shadowed figures.

"Bloody hell, Potter, take that muggle weapon away from me this instant," a familiar low, growling voice snarled. Harry's eyes widened in surprise.

"Moody?" he asked, suspiciously, before glaring at the other figures, "Show yourself."

"I didn't know why we were standing in the dark anyways, Lumos!" a woman's voice said. Instantly, the room was filled with light, and Harry was shocked by when he saw nine people crammed into Aunt Petunia's immaculate kitchen.

"_Merlin's pants_, Harry! Mrs. Figg said you looked different, but what in the name of Gryffindor happened to you? Your face! Well, you still look like you, but- well, different..." Lupin trailed off, shocked by Harry's transformation.

"Errrr," Harry replied, before Moody lunged out of Harry's now slackened grip, and pointed his wand at him.

"Potter, if that's who you really are, what form does your Patronus take?" Moody growled, scowling as he noticed Harry had his wand pointed at him in return. The others took out their own wands, and cautiously pointed them at Harry also.

Harry frowned at them, and sent calming thoughts to Fírnen, who was growling in his mind, wanting Harry to rip apart the humans who dared to threaten him, "A stag," he replied, before narrowing his eyes, "Lupin, what did my parents call you, and what did my father's friends call themselves?"

Lupin blinked at him, before replying, "Moony. And we called ourselves the Marauders." He lowered his wand, "Calm down, Moody, that's definitely Harry. As different as he looks... it's him. Smells like him, too."

Moody grudgingly lowered his wand, but Harry did not. "Who are the rest of you?" The woman with purple hair stepped forward, eagerly, "Wotcher Harry, I'm Tonks, and blimey, you are not what I was expecting! I thought you were going to be short. Anyways, this here," she pointed at the bald, black wizard, who nodded calmly at Harry, "Is Kingsley Shacklebolt. That's Elphias Doge," she pointed at another man, "Dedalus Diggle,"-

"We've met before," squeaked Diggle.

-"Emmaline Vance," The stately-looking witch, "Elphias Doge," A man with thick, straw coloured hair, "And Hestia Jones." The black haired witch. Harry nodded to each of them in turn, and slowly lowered his wand, slotting it back into to holster he had made, which was attached to his wrist.

"So, I assume you've come to take me away, and that you're responsible for the Dursleys going out?"

Moody looked at him with surprise, and a hint of pride, "Very good, Potter. Didn't know you were such a quick study. You'd make a good Auror," he eyed Harry critically, "Even if you now look like one of those airhead models from Witch-Weekly..."

"Alastor!" Tonks cried, "Don't be so mean to Harry. I think he looks lovely!" Harry raised an eyebrow. This was getting really weird...

"So," he said, breaking the silence that had grown after Tonks' exclamation, "We're leaving now?"

Moody nodded his head, "As soon as your trunk is packed, Potter." Harry hurried towards the stairs, wanting to leave as soon as possible.

"I'll help!" Tonks exclaimed.

"No!" Harry yelled, and then cleared his throat in embarrassment, "I'm alright, mostly packed anyways. I was already planning on leaving if you didn't come to get me." Tonks looked crestfallen, but nodded in understanding. Harry sprinted up the stairs, and into his room, rapidly shovelling what was left to be packed. He hadn't been lying, he had packed up most of his things, but there were still a couple of things to go into his trunk. With a wave of his hand, he shrunk Hedwig's and wedged it into the trunk, slammed it closed, and lifted it easily, before hoisting the trunk down the stairs.

When he returned to the kitchen, he found his escorts examining the muggle cooking appliances. He cleared his throat, and they all jumped away guiltily.

"Let's get going," Moody growled, and they all headed out the door. "We're travelling by broomstick, you still have that Firebolt, Potter?" Harry nodded, and they all began to rummage in bags, pulling out miniscule broomsticks, and enlarging them to their true sizes. Before Harry could take his out of his trunk however, Moody grabbed his arm in what before his transformation would have been a strong grip, "You've changed Potter, and I don't know how. But if I find out you've been using dark magic to make yourself more powerful, you will live to regret it."

Fírnen snarled viciously in his mind, and Harry tugged his arm easily out of Moody's grip, surprising the grizzled old wizard, "I would never use dark magic. You've insulted me deeply by merely suggesting it. Dark magic is what killed my parents, and it was used to kill Cedric not four months ago. If you even suggest that I use Dark magic again, _Professor_, it will be you who lives to regret it." Harry's eyes flashed with anger. Moody nodded his head in approval at Harry's words, before patting his shoulder.

"Sorry, Potter, just had to make sure. Would've been surprised if Lily and James' son had resorted to Dark magic, anyway. Don't have a cruel bone in you."

Harry gazed at the ex-Auror in confusion, before returning his attention to his trunk. After he had pulled it out, Tonks attached his trunk to her broom via a harness. Before he could mount his Firebolt, Moody called him over. "I need to Disillusion who first, Potter. Can't risk any Death Eaters seeing you if we're ambushed. Harry raised an eyebrow but allowed Moody to tap him on the head with his wand after muttering a few words. Immediately, Harry felt his skin begin to itch. He was sure if he was a normal wizard, the spell might feel different, but to him it was highly uncomfortable. He said nothing, though, not wanting to draw attention to how different he truly was now.

A shot of sparks appeared in the sky, "That's our signal!" said Lupin, and they shot into the sky.

'I'm flying above, out of hearing distance,' Fírnen told him, 'I'll follow you wherever they take you. They're quite easy to see.' He chuckled as Harry squirmed on his broomstick, the spell making him extremely uncomfortable, 'How do you like it? I expect pity the next time you cast that accursed charm on me, Harry. Now you know how it feels!' Harry grumbled nonsensical words into the freezing air as they sped through the sky.

Eventually, they landed in an area of unkempt grass in the middle of a square. The houses surrounding them were ugly and dirty, but Harry could sense a great deal of magic coming from between houses eleven and twelve. After muttering to himself, and rummaging through his coat, Moody handed Harry a piece of crumpled paper. On it were the words 'The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London'. Harry remained silent after reading the words, and looked up. A house suddenly became visible before them, as though it had inflated out of thin air, and they hurried up the steps. Lupin tapped the door and it swung open. Harry was pulled inside once the door had opened fully, and he took in his surroundings. He was in a dark hallway that smelled of dampness and mould, and everyone was talking quietly to each other, as if trying not to wake something up. Moody came up behind him, and rapped him on the head with his wand. Immediately, the Itchy spell was lifted, (curse Fírnen for naming it that), and Moody caused the unlit gas lamps along the walls to light themselves. He then pushed Harry gently forward, guiding him towards the door at the end of the hall, out of which light was shining.

Upon entering the room, Harry was immediately assaulted by Mrs. Weasley, who trapped him in a bone-crushing hug. "Oh Harry, dear, you've gotten so tall! Same height as Ron, I think, My goodness!-" She cut off the moment she caught sight of Harry's face. "My word, Harry! When on earth did you become such a handsome boy?" She patted his cheek experimentally, and turned to the others, who had filed in behind Harry.

"We know, Molly," Tonks replied with a smile, "Mrs. Figg wasn't joking. But don't worry, it is Harry."

Mrs. Weasley smiled at Harry, confusedly. She could still recognise him, who could forget that unkempt dark hair, bright green eyes, and that famous lightning bolt scar, but his face had changed so much. It was more defined, less childlike, and her opinion, her practically adoptive son now looked like a beautiful prince.

"Well, Harry dear, I'm sure your tired, and you want to see your godfather and friends before you go to bed. Come along, and try not to make a sound. There's a good lad."

Harry gracefully followed her from the room, bidding goodnight to his escorts, and crept after Mrs. Weasley up the stairs.

"This is your and Ron's room," she whispered to Harry, before giving him another hug, "I'm sure he's probably still awake. Goodnight, Harry dear." With that, she tiptoed back down the stairs, leaving Harry to stare at the door before him.

'Why do you hesitate?' Fírnen asked questioningly.

'I look so different now. What happens if they don't accept the new me?' Harry asked with worry.

'If they are truly you're friends, what does you appearance matter to them?' Fírnen said wisely. Harry nodded, though Fírnen couldn't see him, and took a deep breath, before opening the door. Almost immediately after opening it and stepping into the room, the door swinging shut behind him, with a screech of "HARRY!" Hermione sailed into him, wrapping him in a bone-crushing hug reminiscent of Mrs. Weasley's. Ron shouted in surprise, and ran over as well, joining in with the 'Smother Harry to death' hug.

"Guys," Harry gasped, "Can't breathe!"

Ron and Hermione reluctantly released him, and then gasped in surprise.

"Harry, what happened to _you_?" Hermione asked. Harry winced. This was what he had been dreading all summer. He winced, and his heart sunk to the bottom of his stomach at the expressions of shock on their faces. He stared down at his feet.

"Bloody hell, mate, what have you been _eating_? Where the hell can _I_ get some!" Ron asked in astonishment.

Wait, what?

Harry looked up at them in surprise. "You don't think I look weird?" he asked hopefully.

"Of course not, Harry, we're your friends," Hermione said in confusion, "Ron's mum told us you'd changed over the summer, we just didn't expect you to look so-, so-, I don't know, attractive?"

Harry blushed, and stared at his feet. "Blimey mate, what have you been eating," Ron repeated seriously.

"Errrr... carrots?"

Ron stared at him in confusion, "... Carrots made you awesome?"

Harry nodded his head, sagely, "Yes, carrots are my secret." Fírnen roared with laughter in his mind, and it took all Harry's self control to keep a straight face. Hermione stared at him doubtfully, but Ron was already plotting how he was going to acquire the carrots he would need for his own transformation. While he was muttering, Harry decided to ask the question that had been bothering him the whole summer.

"... Why wouldn't you tell me anything?" he asked quietly. Immediately, Ron ceased his ramblings, and tears filled Hermione's eyes.

"We're so sorry, Harry, but we weren't allowed tell you anything in letters. Owls are being intercepted, and we couldn't risk the Order's existence being discovered." Hermione replied, sadly.

Harry nodded in understanding, which caused his friends faces to calm with relief, before asking, "The Order of the Phoenix is the resistance against Voldemort, isn't it?"

Hermione nodded, energetically, "Yes, it's a whole organisation! Ron's parents are members, and so is Sirius!"

Almost as if summoned by the mention of his name, Sirius bounded into the room, the door swinging shut behind him, and pulled Harry into a bear hug.

"My dearest godson! How I have missed you!" he proclaimed in a pompous voice, "My dear boy, you have grown so tall! And handsome! Dear God, it looks like your taking after Lily more than James nowadays!" He grabbed Harry's head and began to muss his hair.

"Sirius!" Harry laughed, struggling to escape his hold, "Let go!"

Laughing, Sirius released him. "I've missed you a lot Harry. We were hoping to fetch you sooner, but Dumbledore said we couldn't. I'm sorry for that, but you're here now, and that's all that matters." He patted Harry on the head. "You must be tired, pup. The rest of you, too. Get some sleep, and I'll talk with you more in the morning." Harry smiled happily. He needn't have been so worried.

"Padfoot?" he asked.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Sirius just smiled at him. "It doesn't matter what you look like now, kid. You're still the same Harry, my godson, and nothing's going to change that." Harry smiled at him, and nodded, and Sirius left the room.

"I best be off to bed, too," Hermione said, yawning, "We'll speak more tomorrow. Night Harry, Ron." She left the room.

Harry and Ron began getting ready for bed, Harry's trunk magically appearing next to him.

'Harry, I'm going to sleep in a park a few miles away. I will be in contact distance, and few muggles come here, as it looks abandoned. I will stay until you need me, alright?'

Harry agreed, and he got into bed. 'Night Fír,' he thought sleepily.

'Goodnight Harry,' he sent back, sending love and companionship through the bond. Harry smiled as he began to drift to sleep.

"Harry?" Ron's voice asked sleepily through the darkness.

"Hmmmm?"

"... Where can I buy carrots?"

**Thanks for reading, reviews are welcome. Next update will hopefully be tomorrow.**


	4. Chapter 4

The next day when Harry woke up, he about on how he had handled everything the day before. Looking back, he decided that if he hadn't had Fírnen and Manin to keep him company over the summer, he probably would have been angry at the lack of communication between himself and his friends. Manin had taught him to think before he acted, something that he had never done before bonding with Fírnen, and it was something he was also embarrassed by, looking back on his actions from when he was a normal wizard. He groaned, and crawled out of bed, shrugging off his long sleeved pyjama shirt so he could change into fresh clothes, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Blimey, Harry! When did you get a tattoo!" Ron was awake, and he had noticed. Crap.

"Uhh, I got it over the summer. You know how I love dragons!" Harry replied, hastily.

Ron stared at him, confused. "... But Harry, last year a dragon tried to kill you. You told me you hated dragons, and hoped they all blew up..."

Harry scratched his head sheepishly, before his eyes widened, and he said in his mind hastily, 'That was before you were born, Fírnen! That dragon was nothing like you!'

Fírnen chuckled, 'It's alright, Harry, I have relived all your memories. That dragon was nothing like me. She could not speak. Modern dragons have lost their magic, for they are no longer magically linked with the elves. They are little more than beasts now,' he said sadly.

'Maybe we could do something? I don't know, link them with wizards so they can-'

"HARRY!" Ron yelled in his face. Harry yelped, and fell backwards over his bed, landing in a heap on the floor. He really had to learn how to have two conversations at the same time without zoning out...

"Sorry Ron," Harry said as he staggered to his feet, rubbing his elbow, "I guess I got a bit distracted."

Ron just looked at him, "Whatever, mate. So basically, over the summer you had a transformation that made you awesome by eating carrots, you got a huge tattoo of a dragon and you became incapable of maintaining a conversation. Anything else?"

"Errrr, I got a new scar on my hand?" Harry said, holding up his hand to the light. He had thought about simply covering his Gedwëy Ignasia but then he would have to wear gloves for the entire year. Besides, the amount of times Harry had been injured in his life, would another scar be so odd? He would have to hide the disappearances of his other scars, such as the ones he had gained during the Triwizard Tournament because his transformation had removed them. Although it could not remove his lightning shaped scar, which had perplexed Manin, it had left smooth unblemished skin in the place of Harry's other scars. Harry had been proud of his scars, as they were badges of survival, but he was glad they were gone. Now it was impossible to tell what he had suffered just by examining his body.

Harry allowed Ron to look his silvery palm as they headed down to the kitchen for breakfast. Upon entering the room, they saw it was empty but for Mrs. Weasley and Sirius, who were discussing which room to tackle next on their cleaning quest.

They stopped once they saw Harry and Ron. "Good morning, dears, your school letters arrived." Mrs. Weasley said, spooning some scrambled eggs onto plates, and with a flick of her wand, sending the plates across the room to land in front of the starving boys. They immediately dug in, which caused both Mrs. Weasley and Sirius to laugh. "Arthur's already left for work, and the twins and the girls are still in bed. The rest of the Order left shortly after you went to bed. I'm sure Ron has explained to you why we're living here?"

Harry nodded his head, and once he had swallowed his food, and grabbed his letter along with Ron, he asked, "Will Dumbledore be coming by soon? I really want to talk to him."

"I'm sorry, dear, but he only comes by for some of the meetings, and then he only stays for a little while. You'll have to wait until you head back to school." She looked over at the calendar on the wall beside the stove, "Which is in little over than a week! Merlin's beard, and we haven't even got your school things yet! I'll have to go shopping later today, once the Drawing room has been cleaned, and that Doxy infestation has been dealt with. Horrid little creatures!"

"Could I come with you to Diagon Alley, Mrs. Weasley?" Harry asked hopefully, examining his letter, "I really need to go to Gringotts."

"I could get Bill to withdraw some money for you, if you want. Not a problem."

"I'd really like to visit my vault, Mrs. Weasley. My parents left some family heirlooms in it, and I'd like to see them." Mrs. Weasley's face softened.

"Of course, Harry dear. You can come if you like."

"Can I come too, Mum?" Ron asked, his mouth full of food, still struggling with his own letter.

"You most certainly may not, Ronald Weasley, you still haven't finished all your homework! Now close your mouth while you're chewing!"

Ron reluctantly turned his attention to his plate, but not before rolling his eyes at Harry. Harry trusted Ron, but he was glad Mrs. Weasley hadn't let him go. Harry's reasons for going to Gringotts actually had nothing to do with his vault, rather with the Goblins. If what Manin had told him during the summer turned out to be true, they had the means to make him into a true Rider. Harry was interrupted from his musings by Ron's surprised yelp, as he pulled a Prefect badge from his envelope.

After a few minutes, the rest of the Weasley's and Hermione staggered into the kitchen, blinking in surprise at the sight of Mrs. Weasley smothering Ron to death from a hug, crowing about how proud of him she was. Hermione too had become a Prefect, and Harry felt extremely proud of his friends, and glad at the same time that he himself hadn't been picked. He didn't think he could handle any more responsibility.

After breakfast, they all headed to the Drawing room, to start their cleaning. "I've already got the Doxy Spray ready for you," Mrs. Weasley announced, "Make sure you keep the mask on your face at all times, and for the love of Merlin, do NOT get bitten! I have Doxy antidote downstairs, but I'd rather not use it. Try and finish the cleaning as fast as you can, because myself and Harry need to go to Diagon Alley later this afternoon, I need to buy Ron his new broom, and we also have most of the Order coming over for dinner later to celebrate Ron and Hermione's outstanding achievements. Everybody clear?"

With a chorus of "Yes Mum" and "Of course, Mrs. Weasley", she left the room, leaving the teenagers to deal with the highly toxic magical creatures by themselves.

"She's quite an irresponsible mother," George commented, as he slapped Ron in the face with one of the rubber gloves. They began wrestling, and Fred joined in, while the girls began cheering them on (Ginny) and telling them to stop (Hermione). Harry, however, seemed to be entranced by the curtain.

Upon entering the room, he had allowed his mind to open, his consciousness brushing all the living things in the room. Including the Doxies. Harry was surprised to find that they were quite intelligent, and that the little creatures were currently terrified at the prospect of their curtain being opened, and being attacked by the wizards.

'Hello,' Harry thought softly towards them. Immediately, they began to panic even more.

'Use the Ancient Language,' Fírnen scolded him, 'That is the only way they will understand you.'

'Right,' Harry thought back, and tried again, only this time speaking in the Ancient Language.

Upon hearing the ancient words, the Doxies stopped panicking, and listened.

'I'm a Dragonrider,' he told them, 'These wizards would like it if you left this house. I know it's your home, but they will remove you by force if you don't leave. I'm really sorry about this.'

The magical creatures, after hearing these words, sent sadness through the link between their minds and Harry's. Harry sent back soothing thoughts, telling them that there were plenty of abandoned houses in the area, so they wouldn't have to move far. At this point, he was standing right beside the curtain, and pulling it back. The Doxies flew out, and landed on Harry's outstretched arms, shoulders and head, anywhere there was room. Harry laughed as the all began to buzz in excitement, realizing what he was as one of them sat in his hand, reverently stroking his Gedwëy Ignasia.

"HARRY! Oh my God! Stay still! We'll spray them! They're poisonous!" Hermione shrieked in terror.

"Don't!" Harry said, "They won't harm me, look!" The others looked closely at the Doxies, seeing that they were indeed not attacking Harry, and calmed down."

"Harry," Ginny asked, "Why aren't they biting you?"

Harry grinned. "I guess they just like me." They others stared at him in shock. "Could someone open the window? These guys need to find a new home."

Ron nodded, dumbly, and shoved at the window, which was stiff from lack of use. Harry walked over to it, and said to the Doxies quietly in the Ancient Language, "Alright little ones, time to fly. Be safe."

They flew off of him and out the window, but not after sending him feelings of gratitude. The one on his hand was the last to leave, still entranced by his silver mark.

"Go on."

It chirped at him, and flew away, following its family. Harry smiled softly and shut the window, dusting off his hands. He turned around, and was met with looks of pure shock.

"Harry, that was amazing," Ginny exclaimed. Harry just shrugged.

"Just have to know how to handle them."

Hermione laughed, and said, "Now you sound just like Hagrid. What did you say to them? It didn't sound like English."

"Oh, uhh," Harry replied, stammering, "I was just making words up..."

Hermione frowned at him. "But it sounded like you were speaking a different language."

Luckily for Harry, he was saved from answering anymore questions by Sirius entering the room.

"Ahh! I see you've dealt with the Doxies. Kreacher throw them out?" Harry had no idea who 'Kreacher' was, but he nodded. "Good, good. We can clear out those cupboards now that the Doxies are gone." Harry's friends sent him questioning looks, but he just shrugged, trying to look sheepish. They shook their heads, thinking Harry didn't want any more attention. Harry sighed with relief as they headed towards the glass fronted cabinets, not mentioning the Doxies anymore. He would have to make sure not to do anything weird in front of them again.

That plan went out the window as soon as Hermione pulled the golden locket out of one of the cabinets. She examined it carefully, before trying to open it. No matter how hard she tugged, the locket wouldn't budge. She handed it to Ron. "Can you open this? It doesn't look cursed. I think it's just an old locket."

After Ron's failed attempts to open the locket, he handed it to Sirius. He frowned as he examined it. "It may not look cursed, but if it was in this cabinet, it must have some sort of dark background. We're safer throwing it out. Harry, will you but it in the bin?" Harry nodded, and Sirius dropped the locket into his hand. Immediately after coming into contact with his skin, his hand began to burn with the worst pain Harry had ever experienced, worse even than the Cruciatus curse. He managed to stay silent, but for a hiss of pain that managed to escape from between his lips, and he dropped the locket. It fell to the floor with a thud.

"Harry?" Hermione asked in concern, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, trying not to gasp, "My hand just... cramped... I need to walk it off! I'll throw this out on the way."

"Oh, okay," Hermione replied, not quite listening, as she was examining a silver hairbrush Ron had just handed her. Harry quickly scooped up the locket using his sleeve, careful not to allow it to come into contact with his skin. After he had left, hurrying in the direction of his room, Hermione realised what he had said. "Wait," she said in confusion, "Cramp in his hand? Why on Earth is he walking it off?"

Ron just shook his head, "He's been acting goofy all morning. Maybe the muggles hit him over the head, or something when he was staying with them. I hope it's not a side effect of the carrots," he said to himself with worry. "I've already eaten five today..."

Once Harry arrived in his room, he tossed the locket onto the desk, and crouched beside it, studying it intently.

'What is it?' Fírnen asked curiously.

'I'm not sure, but look, it has a consciousness.' He sent a tendril of awareness towards the locket, and withdrew it hastily as the sentient jewellery attacked. Harry shivered. 'It feels evil.'

After staring at the locket intently for a minute with nothing happening, Harry decided to try plan B.

'Manin!' Harry thought, sending energy into the tattoo, and the area in his mind where he could feel Manin's consciousness slumbering. 'We really need your advice! MANIN!'

The old spirit groaned, and Harry could sense Manin waking. The tattoo began to heat up, almost burning, but not quite.

_Younglings... I sense I have been asleep no longer than a week... I feel like I have trained failures..._

'Hey!' Harry thought back, insulted, 'You told us we could wake you up if we had a serious problem. And we actually have one! Look what we found.' Harry examined the locket, feeling the dragon spirit peer at it through his eyes. All of a sudden, his mind was filled with the deafening roar of an enraged dragon.

_Get away from that abomination!_ Manin snarled. _It is a Horcrux! Against nature! EVIL!_

'Master! Calm down!' Harry pleaded, along with Fírnen, who was whimpering through the bond.

Manin calmed himself, _My apologise, younglings. The sight of such a disgusting piece of dark magic caused me to lose control. Harry, I believe I now understand how Lord Voldemort was able to survive the killing curse all those years ago..._

'How? What's a Horcrux? Master, what's going on!?'

_A Horcrux is a fragment of soul. It is a means of immortality, as one cannot be killed if pieces of their soul still remain. That Horcrux in front of you belongs to none other than Voldemort himself._

Harry gaped at the golden locket in front of him, while Fírnen asked, 'So the one who orphaned Harry is immortal? How then can we destroy him?'

_You must destroy every last one of his Horcrux' as I doubt such as vile an individual as he created just one. Destroying Voldemort will not be as simple as we once thought. _

Harry sighed, 'When is it ever?'

_I'm sorry Harry, Fírnen._ Manin sighed, before continuing, _I feared he had done something like this. Only the truly evil would resort to such a crime against nature._

Harry felt sick at the thought of a piece of Voldemort's soul within the locket.

'Harry, this does not make him invincible. If we destroy the Horcrux', we destroy him. Right Manin?'

_Yes, Fírnen, you are right. You must destroy all the Horcrux'... every last one of them._

Harry sat down heavily on his bed. "So," Harry said out loud, "As well as defeating the most evil wizard of all time, we first have to destroy the pieces of Voldemort's soul he has hidden around the country. And we don't know what they are, or how many, or where he might have placed them."

_Do not despair, young one_, Manin said quietly, _There is no doubt in my mind that you will defeat Lord Voldemort. It is your destiny._

Harry sighed, and thought to Fírnen, 'Our life sucks.'

'True that.'

_Before I return to sleep, remember that you must speak with the Goblins. They will give you the means to destroy Voldemort..._ Manin said, his voice once again withdrawing deep into Harry's mind, _After all, they have the last deposit of Brightsteel in the world... The metal used to forge the blades of the Dragonriders..._

**Thanks for reading. The chapter after the next one will be Hogwarts. How is Umbridge going to react? She hates halfbreeds after all... DUN DUN DUUUUUHHHH**


	5. Chapter 5

Harry jumped when he heard a knock on the door. He quickly shoved the locket out of sight under a book, careful not to allow it to touch his skin.

"Uhhh, come in?" Harry said. The door opened, and Mrs. Weasley came bustling in.

"Oh Harry dear, Ron told me you would be here. Are you all right? He said you were in pain."

Harry shook his head quickly, "I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley. My hand just got a bit stiff. I guess it was all the cleaning. I'm fine now, though! Completely fine!" Mrs. Weasley gazed at him with worry.

"Well alright dear, whatever you say. I came up to tell you that I'll be leaving for Diagon Alley in a few minutes, so you best change out of those cleaning clothes."

Harry nodded at her, "Okay, I'll be down in a minute. How are we getting there?"

"The Headmaster has organized a portkey," Mrs. Weasley said with a smile. "He's very worried about you. After what happened last term-" She broke off at the look of guilt on Harry's face. "Well that wasn't your fault Harry. I hope you understand that. We're all worried about you." She smiled at him sadly, but it brightened when Harry returned it, his lovely face decorated by a soft smile.

"I'm fine," he said again quietly. "I'll be ready in a minute."

"Alright dear, I'll leave you to it," she said, giving him a motherly hug before she left the room.

As Harry watched her go, he couldn't help but wonder if his mother was alive, would she be like Mrs. Weasley. He hoped she would have been.

'There is no point in living in the past, Harry,' Fírnen said firmly, but kindly, 'All we can do is live in the present, and look forward to the future.

'Have you been reading psychiatry books or something?' Harry grouched, as he shrugged of his ragged plaid shirt, and pulled on a dark green long sleeved shirt in its place, 'I don't remember you being so wise yesterday.'

'I saw it in one of your memories,' Fírnen revealed, embarrassed. 'I believe you read it in a fortune cookie when you were ten.'

Harry facepalmed. 'My dragon is so weird,' he thought to himself.

'... You realise I can hear you, right?' Fírnen asked, annoyed.

'Yes.'

When Harry was finished getting dressed into a different pair of jeans to go along with his new shirt, he was about to creep out the door, when there was a sharp _crack_ behind him. He whirled around, his silver palm brandished in front of him, and blinked in surprise as he took in the sight before him.

"... Ummm, excuse me, random house elf, but why are you in my room?"

The little elf just stared up at him, his eyes wide with awe. Harry frowned in pity as he saw the state the elf was in. Filthy, dressed in an equally filthy pillow case, with a leathery face, and hair coming out of his bat like ears, he answered him, hoarsely. "Master Dragon in Kreacher's Mistress' home. Kreacher is sorry it is not clean. Kreacher apologises. Kreacher's Mistress' home has been invaded, and the Mistress' son does not like Kreacher, no, he does not like him. Kreacher is sorry, Master Dragon! Kreacher will accept any punishment!" The elf fell to the floor, and began bashing his head against it.

"Hey!" Harry said, and rushed to the little elf's side, gently lifting it off the floor. Kreacher did not smell particularly pleasant, but from what he'd gathered from the elf's rant, he was a little crazy. This was Sirius' house. Mistress? Did Kreacher think Sirius was a woman? "Calm down, little guy. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm an elf too, see?" he said with a grin, dropping the glamour concealing his ears. Kreacher gasped in shock. "Let me clean you up a bit," he said kindly, and muttering a few words in the Ancient Language, the years of grime vanished from creatures body, leaving him in a bright white pillow case, and clean.

"Thank you, Master Dragon," Kreacher gasped again, and Fírnen chuckled in his mind, "I promise I will make this house beautiful once again. A being such as yourself should only have the best. Kreacher will serve Master Dragon!"

"Uhh, it's alright, Kreacher," Harry said hastily, "You don't need to-"

"When Master Dragon returns from his outing, Kreacher will have restored his Mistress' house to its former glory!" The elf bowed low to the ground, before disappearing with another crack.

Harry stared at the spot where the elf had been with wide eyes. "... What?"

When Harry finally made it down to the kitchen, his ears enchanted once again, it was to see Mrs. Weasley standing by the table on which an ugly shoe rested, dressed in a cloak.

"There you are, dear. I was beginning to get worried. Are you ready?" Harry nodded, and Mrs. Weasley gestured him over and pointed at the shoe. "This is the portkey, and it's scheduled to depart in just over a minute. Have you got everything you need?" Harry nodded again. A minute later, they both grasped the portkey, and with a jerk, they were transported away.

They appeared in the Leaky Cauldron, which was full of customers, and they walked over to the door that opened into the small room that housed the magical brick wall. Harry braced himself for the comments he was expecting but none came. Other than the appraising looks he received from some of the female patrons, no one gave him any trouble. 'They must not recognise me,' he deduced.

Harry and Mrs. Weasley entered the small room and Mrs. Weasley tapped on the bricks. The slid open to reveal Diagon Alley, and Harry couldn't help but smile at the sight of it.

"Well it looks like no one will be giving you any trouble," Mrs. Weasley said smiling. "I didn't think they would. You look so different now. Here, give me your school list, and I'll fetch your things for you while you're in Gringotts. Harry gave her a dazzling smile.

"Thanks Mrs. Weasley!" he said before running of in the direction of the bank. Mrs. Weasley shook her head at the boy's antics. Harry seemed happier then she'd ever seen him, she thought to herself in confusion. After what had happened last term, she had expected Harry to be depressed and morose, but it seemed a few months away from the magical world had done him some good.

Harry arrived at the bank, and gazed up at the towering structure. 'Fírnen, can you hear me?'

'Yes,' came the reply, 'I'm currently flying overhead. Call me if you need me. That roof looks breakable to me...'

Harry chuckled and entered the bank, nodding at the goblins guarding the door, and smiling cheekily as he saw them go rigid, their eyes widening and darting towards his hand. After seeing the Gedwëy Ignasia, they bowed deeply, which Harry didn't enjoy so much.

Upon entering, he headed towards the nearest available desk, and was delighted to see a familiar face. "Hello Griphook," Harry said cheerfully, deliberately waving at the goblin with his silver hand. The Goblin gasped in shock, before falling of his tall chair. A moment later, the goblin had scurried out from behind the counter, and grabbed hold of Harry's hand, examining it closely.

"A Rider," Griphook murmured with awe. He looked up suddenly, "You must come with me. Follow, quickly." The goblin hurried off in the direction of a door behind his counter. Harry followed, not particularly worried. Manin had said he could trust the goblins, and Harry trusted his teacher, and so trusted the goblins too.

The goblin led him into a large room that contained a number of comfy sofas. Griphook gestured for him to sit in one, and as he did, Harry allowed his ear's true form to become visible for the second time that day. After a few moments, Griphook was joined by a group of goblins that was led by a rather elderly goblin. The old goblin held out a hand, palm facing upwards, and Harry placed his own hand on top of it without hesitation. The goblin studied his hand intently, before stroking the Gedwëy ignasia with one of his long, spindly fingers.

"Greetings Shur'tugal," the old goblin croaked with a deep voice. "My name is Ragnok. I apologise for not introducing myself first, but I am sure you understand my doubts in believing you were a Dragonrider. Your kind was thought to be gone, lost in time along with the elves and the dwarves, our ancestors of the mines. May I ask your name? You seem strangely familiar to me..."

Harry smiled at the goblin. "My name is Harry Potter. I'm not surprised you didn't recognise me. My summer was rather... eventful."

Ragnok cackled, "I would think so! The hero of the wizards, now a Shur'tugal. The Dark Lord won't stand a chance now."

Harry laughed before his face grew serious, "That's actually why I'm here, Master Ragnok. I need your help if I am to defeat Voldemort. My teacher told me that the goblins were the best smiths in the world, and that they were the last beings in possession of the rare metal known as Brightsteel, that was used to create the Rider's swords. I know it is rather rude of me to ask you to relinquish what is no doubt a treasured item, but I must request that you use the Brightsteel to make me a sword. I would rather not part you from one of your heirlooms, but-"

Ragnok held up a hand, interrupting him. "Brightsteel may only be used to fashion a Dragonriders weapon. Yes, the metal is precious to us, but this is the metals purpose. I do not fear crafting such a powerful weapon for you, Mr. Potter. We goblins know of your deeds, and we know you will not use our creation for evil. We will craft you this sword."

Harry smiled at them in gratitude, "Thank you so much. My teacher told me the goblins were an honourable race, and that you would remember the Riders."

Ragnok smiled, but he could not stop himself from asking, "Who is this teacher that speaks so highly of us? Few speak of our kind in such high regard, let alone know the old teachings needed to tutor a Shur'tugal."

"His name is Manin," Harry said, rolling up his sleeves, so the goblins could see part of his tattoo.

"The Dragon Spirit?" Griphook asked in awe. "He still lives?"

"Yeah," Harry chuckled, "He spoke very highly of your people." The goblins beamed at the thought of the great Manin's opinion of them.

Before anything else could be said, one of the goblins stepped forward, "Master Shur'tugal-"

"You can call me Harry," he interrupted. "I'm still just a fifteen year old teenager. You shouldn't have to call me Master."

The goblin stuttered before continuing, "Ma- Harry. If we are to create a sword for you, it will need to match your dragon. That is how it was done during the Time of Magic."

"He's flying overhead right now," Harry said, "But if he came down, people might see him."

'Wizards are stupid,' Fírnen interjected, 'I could fly past them all, and wouldn't see me.'

'We're not going to take that risk,' Harry replied, before saying out loud, "Do you have a room that is open to the sky? If I can see him, I could cast a Disillusionment spell on him."

'No! Not the Itchy spell!' Fírnen roared with horror in his mind. Harry winced, but otherwise did not acknowledge his overly dramatic dragon.

"There is the meeting room," Griphook said thoughtfully, "It has a glass ceiling. We could easily enchant it so your dragon can fly through."

Fírnen sighed, 'Alright, I shall endure the Itchy spell, but only because we need to get that sword.'

"He's coming," Harry told the goblins. "Lead the way."

Along the way, Harry decided to ask the question that he had been itching to ask since they had agreed to craft the sword. "Master Ragnok?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"Yes Harry?" the old goblin replied.

"I was wondering... would a sword fashioned from Brightsteel be capable of destroying something like, I don't know, a Horcrux?"

The goblins around him stopped walking, and tuned to face him. "So the Dark Lord created Horcux', did he?" Griphook asked in disgust.

"I was that obvious?" Harry asked sheepishly.

"No Harry," Ragnok told him kindly, "We had suspected he had performed dark magic's such as his. How else could he have survived all those years ago?"

"So will the sword be able to destroy them?"

"All items crafted by goblins are enchanted," Ragnok explained, "Our magic is capable of destroying even the most evil creations. A sword of Brightsteel crafted by goblins will be near impossible to defeat. You will be a truly powerful Dragonrider, Harry." Harry blushed deeply, and they lapsed into silence once again.

When they arrived in the Meeting room, Harry was shocked by its size. For such small creatures, they liked to build big. Harry was reminded of some of the memories Manin had shown him of the Dwarven cities. They too had built big. Harry deduced it was because when anyone entered their homes, they too felt small, just like the dwarves.

Harry stared up at the beautiful glass ceiling, which displayed the blue sky outside, and was rewarded by the glint of green his sharp eyesight picked up. He held up a hand, and after muttering a few words, light shot from it, and flew upwards at incredible speed. It hit Fírnen, as high as he was in the sky, and Harry could feel Fírnen's discomfort through the bond as he faded from sight. Harry snickered in amusement, but stopped as he relived his own traumatic experience with the spell. He shuddered. 'So uncomfortable...'

Harry could feel Fírnen diving, and hurriedly gestured for the goblins to enchant the glass. They did so immediately, and it shimmered out of view. A moment later, the sound of great wings filled the air, and with a thud, the blurry form of Fírnen land on the ground. Harry rushed forward quickly, banished the spell as he went, and embraced Fírnen. He felt like he hadn't seen his dragon in years, while in reality it had only been a couple of days. He wrapped his arms around Fírnen's neck, and the dragon began to hum happily, reunited with his partner.

'Hey, you got bigger!' Harry thought in surprise.

Fírnen huffed in amusement, 'Soon I'll be strong enough to fly with you,' he thought proudly.

Harry chuckled, before replying, 'It could just be that cow you ate this morning...'

Fírnen growled playfully, and batted Harry's side with his head, blowing hot air at him, causing Harry's hair to become even more unkempt than it already was. Harry laughed out loud, and that seemed to break the goblins out of their paralysis of seeing a dragon and his rider together.

They all hurried forward, and began studying Fírnen, exclaiming loudly about how beautiful his scales were, and how sharp his ivory talons and teeth were. Fírnen just stood in the middle of them, basking in his own gloriousness.

Harry groaned, before telling the goblins, "Please don't compliment him anymore. He's already incredibly vain." Fírnen flicked him across the room, and the goblins laughed. Harry stood up, dusted himself off, before leaping onto Fírnen, dragging him to the ground, and holding down his head so he couldn't get up.

"So," Harry said conversationally, as if he was using all his strength to hold down a dragon, "Will you be able to make a sword now?"

The goblins nodded dumbly, shocked by Harry's display of strength.

"Thank you," Harry said sincerely, bowing his head to the goblins.

"It is no trouble at all, Harry," Griphook said. "We are proud to create a weapon for a hero such as yourself.

Harry's face heated up at the mention of the word 'hero' and he shook his head. "I'm not a hero. I'm just trying to do what's right." The goblins raised their eyebrows at him simultaneously, and Harry's blush darkened. Fírnen used this distraction to dislodge Harry, and send him flying across the room again. Fírnen inclined his head gracefully towards the goblins, 'Thank you for assisting us,' he sent to them, his deep, calm voice echoing in their minds. Their eyes widened in surprise. 'I must take my leave. Harry's human caretaker will no doubt be growing worried at how long he is taking. Until next time, friends.'

Harry leapt to his feet, but thought better of attacking Fírnen after he had made them look good in front of the goblins. Harry nodded his thanks to the goblins also once he reached Fírnen's side, but when he turned to face Fírnen, his expression changed to one of grumpiness. 'You're gonna pay for this someday. I'm not sure how I will do it, but I will make you pay.' Harry could sense Fírnen's amusement, and shook his head in exasperation. He cast the spell again, this time only temporarily so that by the time Fírnen had returned to his park, it would fade away. Before he left, Fírnen rested his head on top of Harry's. Harry felt his neck creak, but didn't complain. He hated being separated from Fírnen as much as Fírnen did. With one last hug, he released Fírnen, who backed away, spread his invisible wings, and took off into the sky.

Harry sighed sadly, and turned back to the goblins. "Which door leads back to Diagon Alley?"

After exiting Gringotts, with assurances that his sword would be completed the day after he returned to Hogwarts, which was less than a week away, Harry walked down the steps, finding Mrs. Weasley standing there waiting for him, laden down with numerous shopping bags. He immediately took most of them, and Mrs. Weasley smiled gratefully at him.

"Did you get everything you need?" Mrs. Weasley asked curiously.

"Yeah," Harry said, gazing back at the bank, with its two goblin guards in front, who nodded to him with respect, "I think I did."

**Next chapter will be out tomorrow, and it will be the return to Hogwarts. Reviews are welcome.**


	6. Chapter 6

The next week passed pretty uneventfully in Harry's opinion. When they had returned home from Diagon Alley, it was to find the house spotless and glowing, and its inhabitants running around like headless chickens from the shock, and a painting screaming. It was then that Harry understood why everyone had been so quiet before.

During the celebration of Ron and Hermione's success on becoming Prefects, Harry had thanked Kreacher for all his work, and the little elf looked like he would explode from the praise. Harry had sensed the odd looks the others were sending him, as none of them had managed to get along with the old house elf, but none of them pursued it, putting it down as one of the odd things that tended to happen around Harry.

The morning of their departure for Hogwarts was extremely panicked. One of the guards that would be escorting them to Kings Cross had failed to show up, and they couldn't leave until he arrived. Harry was standing at the bottom of the stairs when he saw Fred and George's trunks come hurtling down the stairs, and collide with Ginny. Harry used his speed to jump forward and catch the girl before she could tumble down the stairs. When he asked Ginny if she was alright as he set her down on the floor, she stammered and her face turned redder than her hair. She thanked him, and ran off to the kitchen. Harry frowned after her, confused by her strange behaviour, but it was quickly banished from his mind as Mrs. Weasley began screaming at her twin sons, only to be joined by the portrait that Harry now knew to be Sirius' mother, and Kreacher's mistress.

Once Mrs. Weasley calmed down, and the portrait had been silenced, everyone filed into the narrow hallway.

"We'll just have to leave without Sturgis," Moody growled. He pulled open the door, and gestured for them to leave. "I'll take care of the luggage. Hurry now."

Before he could take a step, Harry felt something tugging on the back of his shirt. He turned around to see Kreacher staring up at him with watery eyes.

"Master Dragon is leaving?" he croaked sadly.

Harry's eyes softened, and he crouched down so he was level with the elf, "Yeah, Kreacher, but don't worry, I'm sure I'll be back for Christmas." This seemed to cheer the elf up, and he threw his thin, stick-like arms around Harry's neck. Harry laughed, and the elf let go.

"Kreacher is sorry, Master Dragon, but Kreacher will miss Master Dragon." Harry patted the elf on the head affectionately.

"I'll see you soon, Kreacher." Harry stood up, and followed the others out the door. Before he could close it behind him, a black, bear-like dog leapt out, and ran out onto the grass. Harry chuckled, knowing it was Sirius, and watched, amused, as Mrs. Weasley tried to make him go back inside. She ended up losing that argument, even though Sirius was replying using barks.

"I don't know how you did it, Harry! I've been trying to befriend Kreacher the whole summer, and you managed it in less than a week!"

Harry just shrugged, "I guess I'm just good with magical creatures," he said sheepishly.

"I'll say," Ron muttered, "You're a bleeding Doxy tamer!" They all fell silent as Sirius trotted back over to them. Harry grinned down at his Godfather, and Sirius returned the expression, albeit as a dog.

Once they rounded the corner, they saw an old woman who Harry recognised immediately as Tonks. Although he didn't read people's minds, as he thought of it as quite rude, he always kept himself aware of the people around him. He didn't want another Moody incident like last year. With every person he met, he scanned the surface of their mind quickly, just to make sure they were who they said they were. This also meant that he knew what the Order member's minds felt like. Tonks was easy to distinguish.

"Wotcher Harry!" Tonks called excitedly, pushing away from the wall she was leaning on, hobbling towards them in her little old lady form. She tripped in her haste to reach them, and for the second time that morning, Harry had to catch someone to prevent them from injury.

"Are you alright?" he asked in concern.

Just like Ginny, Tonks blushed red, even in her old woman form, and Harry guessed she must be embarrassed. Why else would she be blushing?

"Thanks Harry," she said breathlessly, and she hurriedly stood upright. She cleared her throat before saying, "Come on now, we're walking. The station is twenty minutes away, and it's half past ten! We'd better hurry if we're to catch that train."

It did indeed take them twenty minutes, and by the time they arrived at platform nine and three-quarters, it was packed with students. They spotted Moody with the trunks, and took them from him. Before Harry entered the train, he received hugs from Mrs. Weasley and Tonks. The hug from Tonks lasted a bit too long, and Harry had to clear his throat so she would let go. Was she sniffing his neck? She jumped away from him, red faced again, and then it was Sirius' turn.

Sirius jumped up, and placed his paws on Harry's shoulders. Harry laughed at the animagus' antics before Mrs. Weasley shoved Sirius off of him. "For heaven's sake! Act like a dog!"

The dog huffed in amusement, and Harry and the others got on the train just as the warning whistle sounded. They waved at the adults as the train slowly pulled away from the station. When the station was out of sight, Harry turned to Ron and Hermione. "You guys have to go to the Prefect compartment, right?" Hermione nodded.

"Wait a second, mate," Ron asked incredulously, "How did you know there was a Prefect compartment? I only learned about it in my letter."

Harry shrugged, "I finally read 'Hogwarts a History'." Hermione beamed at him in pride before dragging Ron away, calling their goodbyes over their shoulders. Harry turned to Ginny, "Let's go find a compartment." Ginny squeaked in reply, and Harry took this as an agreement. He led the way down the corridor, carrying his own trunk and Ginny's while she held Hedwig's cage. Harry tried to ignore he strange looks he was getting from his schoolmates, and the random invitations everyone seemed to be giving him to join them in their compartments. Harry declined to everyone, and kept up his search for a compartment that was empty. After finding none, Harry decided to join the compartment that housed someone he actually knew, and a girl he didn't. He knocked on the glass, and slid open the door.

"Hey Neville, mind if we join you?" Neville looked up in surprise, and nodded timidly.

"Umm, how do you know my name?" Neville asked nervously.

Harry blinked in surprise. "It's me, Harry."

Neville gasped. "Whooaaa, when did you get so- get so-"

"Handsome?" the mysterious blond girl supplied.

"Yeah," Neville nodded in embarrassment.

"Oh," Harry said, brushing a hand through his unruly hair, not noticing the wide eyed looks he was receiving from both Ginny and Luna as his muscles became evident through the thin sleeves of his shirt, "Guess I just had a growth spurt. Ate lots of carrots..."

"Carrots?" Neville asked in surprise, "I didn't know carrots could cause this kind of effect."

Harry laughed nervously. "Sorry," he said to the blond girl, "I'm Harry, what's your name?"

"Luna Lovegood," she replied, smiling dreamily at him, her usually unfocused eyes staring directly at Harry, "You're quite pretty, did you know that?" She then returned to reading her magazine. Which was upside down. Harry looked at her oddly, before shrugging. Who was he to think someone weird? He had freaking pointy ears for Merlin's sake.

"Did you have a good summer, Harry?" Neville asked as he removed an odd looking plant from his bag. At Harry's nod, he held out the plant. "My grandmother got it for me for my birthday. Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Harry breathed, studying the plant, "'Mimbulus mimbletonia, right?"

"It is!" Neville replied happily, "How did you know? I didn't think you were interested in Herbology."

"I decided to study a bit during the summer," Harry replied quickly. He didn't want to reveal to them that with Manin's tutoring, he had managed to complete the whole of his Hogwarts education in the three months of holidays.

"That's cool," Neville replied happily, "Want to see its defence mechanism?"

"No!" Harry yelled, but too late, Neville had already prodded the plant. Quick as a flash, Harry had his wand out, and silently had cast a bubble around the plant, containing the disgusting substance the plant had created when it exploded. With another flick of his wand, the goop was gone.

"Whoa," Neville said, his eyes wide, "That was some quick wandwork there, Harry."

Before Harry could answer, the door slid open, and the sound of giggling filled the small space. One of the many girls outside the door stepped forward, and Harry recognised Cho Chang, the girl he had had a crush on the year before.

"Harry?" she asked, "Is that you?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, gazing at her in confusion, "Why are you all outside our door?"

Cho blushed, and the large group of girls behind her giggled some more.

"We just want you to know, that we all believe you, Harry," Cho said bravely.

"... What?" Harry replied in confusion.

Cho turned around to leave, and another girl stepped forward, "If you ever need a shoulder to cry on Harry," she said, batting her eyelashes, "Know that I'm here for you."

"... Who are you?"

"Romilda Vane," she proclaimed, proudly.

"Ummm, okay. I really need to discuss something with my friends now. Would you girls mind leaving? Really sorry about this..."

The girls all began pouting, but they closed the door. The moment it closed, the corridor erupted into shrill squeals, and Harry winced as his sensitive ears stung from the noise.

"... What the hell."

"I think you've got a couple of new admirers, Harry," Neville said with a laugh. "So carrots?"

Harry ignored him. "What did they mean by 'They believe me'?"

"Oh," Neville said, his face falling, "The Daily Prophet has been saying some nasty stuff about you lately. They don't want to believe You-know-Who is back. Cowards," Neville said bitterly, "But on the plus side, it doesn't look like any of the girls believe the Prophet."

Harry groaned, and covered his eyes. 'You're going to have stalkers,' Fírnen thought to him with a laugh.

Harry groaned again, this time internally, 'Thanks for not distracting me while I was with the others, Fír,' Harry sent with gratitude, 'I really appreciate it.'

'No problem, Harry,' Fírnen said, 'I'm flying above the train. When we arrive at the school I'll head to the forest. If the spells you cast on me don't let me through the wards, I'll wait until tomorrow in the muggle forests rather than the Forbidden.' Harry sent his agreement, and opened his eyes to see his friends otherwise occupied. Neville was studying his new plant, Luna was reading her magazine, and Ginny was reading a book. Harry was about to close his eyes again when the compartment door slid open once again. Harry groaned, thinking it was more adoring fans, but it was Ron and Hermione.

He smiled at them, and they sat down in the free seats. Harry happily began chatting with them, introducing them to Luna, and telling them about the almost explosion with Neville's new pet, and the girls. They were all laughing when the compartment door opened a third time, this time revealing Draco Malfoy and his goons.

"Well, well, look who it is. Potter and his- HOLY MERLIN! Is that you, Potter?!"

Harry laughed at Draco, before replying, his face growing serious. "What do you want Malfoy? I'm not in the mood for any of your crap, if that's what you're planning."

Malfoy just stared at him, his mouth hanging open. "What- how- when-"

"Go away, Malfoy," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

These words of dismissal seemed to awaken Draco from his shock, and he quickly morphed his face into his favourite expression. A sneer. "Well if it isn't little Potty."

"I'm taller than you, Malfoy," Harry replied, bored,

Malfoy blinked, before scowling. "A little nerd with glasses like you should learn to respect his betters."

"I don't wear glasses anymore. Can't you see? Maybe YOU should go get some glasses, Draco," Harry said with mock concern.

"What? Glasses- no- gone? Ammunition! Lost!"

Harry sighed. "Go away, you gelled haired git."

"I'm going to leave now," Draco announced, pompously, "But it's not because you told me to. The stink in here is getting to me. Be careful Potter, I'll be _dogging_ your- OWW!" A thick book had slammed into Malfoy's face, courtesy of Harry.

Harry gazed out of the window, one hand propping up his chin, while the other was still held out from throwing the book. Draco collapsed to the ground, unconscious, and Crabbe and Goyle grunted stupidly as they dragged their boss from the room.

"Idiots," Harry said, as the door slid shut once again.

Once the train arrived in Hogsmeade, they all hurried to the carriages. Upon seeing them, Harry froze in shock. They weren't horseless carriages, as he previously thought, they were drawn by Thestrals. Harry ran off while Ron and Hermione were looking around. When they turned back, they stared at Harry in confusion.

"Uhh, Harry, mate," Ron said nervously, "What are you doing?"

"I am greeting these adorable Thestrals," Harry said gleefully, and he rubbed his face against the Thestral's causing it to snort with amusement. Harry laughed in return, and the Thestral licked his face.

Ron and Hermione's faces twitched as they watched Harry begin to pet the empty air.

"He's not crazy," a dreamy voice came behind them.

"Wanna bet?" Ron said.

"Only people who have seen death can see a Thestral," Luna informed them, before entering the carriage.

"Ohhh," Hermione said softly, in understanding.

"What?" Ron asked, still confused. Hermione just shook her head.

"Come on Harry, we need to go," she called, before entering herself. Ron sat beside her.

"What did Luna mean?" Hermione gazed at him before saying one word that caused Ron's face to fill with understanding.

"Cedric."

They arrived at the school without incident, and entered the Great Hall where they seated themselves at the Gryffindor table. Harry was ecstatic to be back, and he even managed to ignore all the girls staring at him when he hid his head in his arms as the rest of the students entered the hall.

"Are they still looking?" Harry whispered to Ron.

"No, mate," Ron replied. Harry lifted his head from the table, only to look up and see the eyes of almost every girl in the room fixed on him. Harry yelped, and shoved his head back down. Some of them had been _drooling._

"RON!"

His best friend just laughed, as did all the guys around him. The girls were too busy staring.

When everyone was seated, Dumbledore began his quick 'Welcome Back' speech before the first years entered and were sorted into their houses. Harry gave the teachers table a quick scan, and noticed two new faces. Well, one new face. He knew who Grubbly-Plank was. That must mean Hagrid wasn't available for teaching. Harry frowned in concern. Harry looked at the other new teacher, and his eyes were assaulted by the most disgusting clothing he had ever seen. Pink clothing. He shuddered, disgusted. He studied the face of the pink clad woman, and noticed she had a face that looked like a toads. And she was staring at him. Harry shuddered again, and looked back at the first years. The last DADA teacher had been a serial killer. If this one was a paedophile, Harry was killing her. No one who dressed that horridly could be sane.

The sorting finished, and the hat having sung quite a strange song about uniting the houses, Harry dug in to the food that appeared on the table.

"Harry," Hermione asked, staring at the food Harry was heaping onto his plate, "I meant to ask you last week, but I didn't get a chance. Why don't you eat meat anymore?"

Harry looked up, none too surprised she had noticed, and shrugged, "I don't like eating anything that used to have a mind," he said slowly, staring at the plate of meat that Ron was creating for himself.

"Ron stared at him, incredulously, "Blimey Harry, you really changed a lot over the summer."

Harry shifted uncomfortably, until he noticed a distraction. "Look Ron! They have carrots!"

Ron immediately pounced on the plate, shortly followed by Neville, and they began inhaling the orange vegetables. Harry shook his head and smirked, an expression mirrored by Hermione.

Once desert was over, Dumbledore began his speech. Harry listened, but he was quite drowsy. He became alert, however, when Dumbledore told the school that Hagrid was away for a while, and would be replaced by Professor Grubbly-Plank until his return. Then it was time for the pink monstrosity.

"Students," Dumbledore announced, "This year, the Ministry has supplied us with a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Her name is Professor Umbridge. In other news-"

"Hem hem."

Dumbledore broke off, and turned his attention to the short witch with the irritating cough.

"Thank you, Albus," Umbridge said with a simpering laugh. Everyone stared at her in shock. She had interrupted the Headmaster.

The Ministry witch then began a long boring speech about a load of crap, but Harry listened anyways, and was shocked by the underlying messages the witch was telling them. When she finished, Umbridge sat down once again, her eyes roaming over the students. There was a pause, and the Headmaster continued his speech as if nothing had happened.

Harry stared up and Umbridge, suspicion at the forefront of his mind. Something was up with her. Harry sent a probe into Umbridge's mind, determined to discover whether or not she was a Death Eater. What Harry found was much worse in his opinion. This woman was indeed Dolores Umbridge. And she was a fucking psychopath. Harry winced as his mind was immersed in Umbridge's. She hated children, and wanted nothing more than to see them tortured and mutilated. At the top of her list was none other than Harry. He was her first target 'To be punished'. Her words, not his. She also despised halfbreeds, something that made Harry hate her even more than he did after reading her other thoughts. He was one of them now, after all. This woman was pure evil, and she was going to be _teaching _them?

Harry emerged from her mind, shivering from prolonged exposure with her insanity. He wanted nothing more than to scrub his mind clean from her thoughts, but he had something left to do. One by one, Harry brushed the consciousnesses of his classmates, and then his teachers. He had to check for imposters. When he reached the teachers, he checked each of them, making his way down their table, and avoiding Dumbledore, knowing that the Headmaster would undoubtedly be able to sense him. It was all clear until he reached the end of the table. The moment he brushed against Professor Snape's mind, mental barriers appeared, and the Potions master's head shot up, searching the students until his gaze locked with Harry's. Harry stared at him in shock. Snape could read minds?

Snape'e eyes narrowed at Harry, more out of confusion than anger. Snape looked away when the teacher beside him caught his attention, and Harry shrank into his seat. Crap.

Up at the teachers table, Severus returned his attention to Potter. There was no doubt about it, the boy had somehow learned how to learn Occlumency. He was confused. How had a fifteen year old discovered such powerful magic by himself? Perhaps he had underestimated the boy. Maybe he was more like Lily than he had previously thought-

Snape quickly banished these thoughts. Lily was dead, and her son was _only_ like his father. Snape narrowed his dark eyes at the boy even further. He would uncover the boy's secrets, whether Potter wanted him to or not. He owed it to Lily.

**Thanks for reading, review if you so wish, but know it makes me happy :3**


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry if anyone thinks I'm making Harry too powerful, but I need to make him really strong because I'm not sticking to canon for most of this story, and otherwise Harry will get his ass kicked. Buuuuut I can't say why, coz that would spoil it :L**

The next morning when Harry woke up, the first thing he did was search the grounds with his mind, looking for Fírnen. He could sense the dragon's consciousness faintly, but enough to tell that Fírnen was still sleeping. He had told Harry the night before that his spells had worked on the wards, and Harry had felt extremely proud of himself.

Harry rubbed his bleary eyes, and sat up, yawning. His hangings were drawn around the bed, blocking him from the others while he slept, as he still couldn't figure out how to maintain glamours while he was sleeping. He rubbed the pointed tips of his ears, grimacing as he recast the spell. It wasn't painful, but he didn't enjoy hiding his true self from his friends.

As he got up and began to get dressed, his other roommates still asleep, Harry contemplated when he was going to tell Ron and Hermione about Fírnen. He wanted to tell them so much, as he hated keeping secrets from them, but Manin's warning was still at the forefront of his mind.

_By all means, tell them of what you have become, young one_, the old dragon had said, _But wait until Fírnen has grown. If you are discovered, and you are unable to defend yourselves, I fear what will become of you in the hands of the corrupt Ministry. At least wait until you are able to fly together._ At this, Harry had heard amusement in the dragon's voice, _That way you can escape them if you need to. I can't see you two taking the train home._

Harry smiled at the memory, and he grabbed his wand from where it was lying on his bedside locker. He twirled the stick of wood between his fingers, marvelling at the power such a small tool possessed. He held it up alongside his silver hand. His hand could do almost anything his wand could, only stronger, but then again, Harry had yet to try any Life magic using his Dragonrider powers. Manin had been sceptical on whether or not Harry's wizards core would fuel as spell such as healing, because the whole point of those spells was to transfer the life force of one being into another. Harry shrugged to himself. He could do elemental magic with his hand as he would with his wand without it drawing his life force, so he was confident it would be the same with healing. He _was_ the first wizard/elf hybrid, after all.

Dismissing these thoughts, and shoving his wand into his uniform pocket, Harry crept over to Ron's bed, and shook him awake.

"Go'way Mum," Ron mumbled into his pillow, " 'mm sleepin' ."

Harry laughed at Ron's groggy face, and prodded his arm with a finger. "Get up, Ron. Breakfast starts in ten minutes."

Ron seemed to wake up a bit at the mention of breakfast, but groaned and scowled at Harry sleepily at the mention of the time. "Breakfast starts at seven..."

"I know," Harry said brightly, and proceeded to pull Ron out of the bed, where he flopped onto the floor and began twitching like a fish out of water. "I just want to eat breakfast early today."

Ron scowled some more, seeing through Harry's feeble lie, "This is because you're scared of your adoring fans, isn't it?" he said flatly.

Harry flushed, before stammering, "N-no, I'm just hungry is all..."

Ron sighed, and slowly got to his feet. "The things I do for you, you ungrateful git."

Harry beamed at him happily, and silently walked over to the door. Luckily their conversation hadn't woken the others, and Harry was glad for that. They were grumpy if they got woken up early, and Harry didn't want to upset them. He didn't mind upsetting Ron, though, as Ron's snores had kept him awake until he finally gave in, casting a silencing charm. Ron owed him. He was louder than a troll.

"I'll meet you down in the Common Room," Harry called back quietly from the door. "Don't you dare go back to sleep."

Ron mumbled grumpily, but opened his trunk and started getting dressed, failing to notice he had put his jumper on backwards. Oh well...

Harry walked down the stairs and entered the Common Room, starting as he realised a bushy haired individual was already seated in an armchair, writing on a piece of parchment.

"Hermione? Why are you up so early?"

She jumped, and squealed in surprise, knocking an inkwell flying, "MERLIN'S PANTS!"

Harry caught the inkwell as it flew across the room, on a direct path towards his face. He walked over to her and placed it on a table. He ran a hand through his hair sheepishly. "Sorry 'Mione, didn't mean to scare you."

"Didn't mean to scare me?" she exclaimed, holding a hand up to her heart that was beating madly, "I didn't even hear you! When did you learn to be so sneaky?"

"You just weren't paying attention!" Harry said, laughing awkwardly. "Anyway, me and Ron are heading down to breakfast in a few minutes to avoid the masses. But back to my question, why are _you_ up so early?"

"Oh," Hermione said, packing up her belongings into her bag, and standing up, "I always get up early, so I can get a bit of extra studying in."

"I should have known," Harry said with a laugh. He was about to say more, but broke off when there was a thump behind him. They turned around to see Ron sprawled on the floor, his uniform on backwards, and fast asleep. "... Maybe it was a _bit_ too early for him."

Hermione shook her head at Ron's prone form, her lips curling in amusement.

By the time they left the Common Room, Ron with his uniform now the correct way round, and headed for the Great Hall, the other students were beginning to rise. When they entered the hall and sat down at the Gryffindor table, helping themselves to the food, there were barely any other students present, and the teachers table was empty but for Snape and Professor McGonagall. McGonagall nodded at them as they sat down, pleased to see some off her students up so early, while Snape narrowed his eyes at Harry with suspicion rather than his usual distaste. Harry gulped and stared down at the table, trying to erect barriers around his mind. Though he was quite accomplished at reading other people's minds, Harry had yet to fully master protecting his own. Manin had told him to train his mental barriers better, but he just couldn't seem to get the hang of it. Whenever Manin had tested them, the walls had always crumbled eventually. Harry found it quite embarrassing.

Harry dug into his scrambled eggs and toast, foregoing the sausages and rashers that he had used to love, that now made him feel slightly sick. Poor piggy. Ron, of course, began wolfing down all the meat he could, along with a carrot. Ron really was gullible.

Harry sank lower into his seat as the hall began to fill up, students sitting at their respective tables, and many of their eyes roaming around the room until they found Harry. He groaned, and allowed his head to fall onto his arms in the same position he had used for most of the feast the day before. When the hall was full of students, the heads of houses came down to the students tables, and began handing out timetables.

"Ah hell," Ron moaned as he gazed at his timetable, "We've got History of Magic and double Potions first thing! Worst. Day. EVER."

Harry shrugged and kept his head down while Hermione berated Ron for being so negative. He stiffened, however, when a sickly horrid floral scent invaded his nose. He gagged, and looked up to see the ghastly toad woman standing behind Ron and Hermione, smiling at them. It was so horrible...

"Hello children," she said in a sickly sweet voice, "I hope you're having a good morning?"

Hermione nodded, eager to please the new teacher, even if she was creepy as hell. "Of course, Professor Umbridge, and you?"

The woman gave a simpering laugh, and Harry cringed. 'Oh my God, this woman is insane,' was all he could think. "I'm lovely, thank you for asking, Ms...?"

"Granger," Hermione supplied eagerly, "I'm really looking forward to your class. I'm sure it will be very interesting." Hermione managed to keep a smile on her face, but found herself growing uncomfortable as Umbridge turned her attention to Harry, staring at him with her protruding eyes.

"And this is Mr. Potter," she said softly, "You're looking forward to me class as well? Not a very necessary class, of course, but it _is_ part of the curriculum. I'll be teaching wand safety and the like, and of course we will be studying Halfbreeds, and other magical creatures later in the year." She kept her attention on Harry's face, as if searching for a reaction.

'Holy shit, how does she know?' he thought incredulously.

Out loud, he said serenely, "That sounds very interesting, Professor," not allowing any of his true emotions to cloud his face, "I look forward to it."

Umbridge's mouth twitched, and she turned on her heel, marching up to the teachers table without another word.

"Creepy old hag," Ron muttered.

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, looking shocked, "I'm sure she's not that bad..."

Harry stared after her. "Yeah, she's worse."

After History of Magic, which lasted so long, Harry was sure time had stopped, he and Ron trudged moodily down to the dungeons along with Hermione, who was talking excitedly about what they had just learned.

Harry groaned. He had ACTUALLY read the book, and it had been the single most boring piece of literature he had ever read in his life. Why was she so excited?

They entered the Potions lab, the rest of the class having already arrived, and slumped into their chairs. The room was dark, and smelled awful from whatever the class before had been making, and Harry's sensitive nose crinkled in disgust. He switched to breathing through his mouth. Some of the perks of being half elf weren't so great when they forced you to suffer horrible stenches. Like the Umbridge woman's perfume. It smelled like a flower shop had _died_ on her clothes.

Snape swept in the room, his black cloak billowing behind him, and stood at the top of the room, examining the class. He then began a speech about the importance of Potions in O.W.L.'s, and how it was likely that most of them would fail. Harry scowled at these words, but said nothing. He knew he was quick to temper, and that was one of the things Manin had tried to help him control during the summer. Now that he had become powerful, he had to make sure he never harmed another out of anger unless it was during battle. He might accidently kill them if he did.

"Now, for the rest of the class, all of you will attempt to create the Draught of Peace. It often comes up in O.W.L.'s, and a few of you should be capable of creating a mediocre version of this potion. Ingredients can be found in the storage cupboard, instructions are on the blackboard," his dark eyes flitted around the room before coming to rest on Harry, narrowing slightly. "Begin," his deep voice echoed around the dungeon.

Everyone shot to their feet and hurried to the cupboards, grabbing supplies and hurrying back to their cauldrons. Harry studied the board carefully before beginning the potion. He had never liked Snape, so today he was determined to prove the Professor wrong for all the times he had slandered Harry's potion making skills. He had not tried this potion over the summer, only the ones for which he had the ingredients for in his trunk. Snape had deliberately set an extremely difficult potion for them to make on the first day, and Harry felt irritation at the man. He watched in worry at the stressed expressions on his friends faces as they began.

"Potter," Snape's voice boomed. "Are you just going to stand there all day?"

Harry scowled. "No Professor," and he got to work.

By the end of the lesson, Harry was extremely pleased with his potion. Even though he had been nervous, and Snape was breathing down everyone's necks, daring them to fail, Harry had still managed to create the potion correctly. It was his first time ever truly succeeding in potions class. He stood by his cauldron, and watched with bated breath as Snape examined its contents. He saw the Potions Master's eyes widen in disbelief as he stirred the potion, then filled up a vial and held it up to the dim lights. Snape placed the vial on the desk, and held out a hand.

"Potter, show me your potions book."

Harry was confused, but rummaged around on his desk before pulling the book out from under some dry ingredients. He watched as Snape flicked through the book, and waved his wand over a random page. He studied the page intently before handing the book back to Harry.

"Professor, why-"

"Nevermind Potter," Snape sneered. Harry frowned, but didn't pursue it any farther. He had returned his attention to clearing up the leftover ingredients when Snape said quietly, "Good potion, Potter... perhaps who inherited more from your mother than just your eyes," before he stalked over to Hermione's table. Harry's eyes widened in shock, and he knew his mouth was gaping open. Snape had complimented him? Harry frowned, perplexed. Snape hated him. This was the first nice thing he had ever heard from the teacher's mouth. Then it struck him. Wait a second, Snape knew his mother?

By the time class finished, Harry was itching to interrogate Snape. How did he know his mother? Had they gone to school together? Did he know her from the Order? Had his mother had been good at Potions?

The other students filed from the room, but Harry stayed behind. At the questioning looks sent at him by Ron and Hermione, Harry signalled that he would be a minute. They nodded, gazing at him in concern before leaving the room as well.

"What do you want, Potter?"

"Ummm, when you checked my potion, you said something about my mother. Did you-"

Before he could finish, Snape whirled around, and pointed his wand at Harry. "Legilimens!"

Harry cried out as he was hit with the spell, and all his memories were pulled to the front of his mind. He was horrified as Snape began rifling through them, concentrating on what Harry had been doing that summer. Harry tried with all his might to build walls, to protect his secret from Snape, but as he tried to hide Fírnen's existence, Snape discovered the truth.

With an almighty roar, Fírnen tore into Harry's mind, forcing Snape out, mentally biting and clawing at Snape's presence until he was thrown out with so much force that Snape was actually blasted off of his feet, and he hit the wall with a _smash_.

Harry dropped to his knees, and grabbed his head. Fírnen, who had just awoken in time to feel Harry's mind be invaded, snarled and began to erect walls around their minds, soothing Harry at the same time.

'Thanks Fír,' Harry sent, gasping as his head throbbed painfully.

'I will rip him to shreds,' Fírnen snarled, staring at the teacher through Harry's eyes.

Snape scrambled to his feet, and pointed his wand at Harry, whose pupils had become slitted like a reptile's.

"Dragon," he rasped in shock.

"Yeah," Harry groaned, "And you pissed him off. What the HELL was that?! Why did you just attack me?"

"Dragon," Snape said again, this time angrily. "I knew you were hiding something when I sensed your presence in my mind yesterday, I just assumed you were an imposter. I was correct to suspect there was something changed about you. Your appearance has been distorted, and your mind controlled by a _dragon,_" he hissed, "Explain what I saw in your mind, _Potter_."

"Why should I?" Harry replied mulishly.

"Because otherwise I am heading straight to the Headmaster. I'll let _him_ deal with that creature," Snape snarled.

Harry glared at him before speaking. "It's like you saw in my mind. I found an egg, a dragon hatched from it. _My_ dragon. If you _dare_ to threaten him again, _Professor_, I'll kill you. _No one_ harms him. That's why I haven't told anyone about him. If I do, the stupid Ministry will try and control us, and they might get him killed. He's barely three months old! And Fírnen doesn't like the Ministry either. He told me."

Snape's eyes widened. "He... told you?"

"Yes," Harry snarled defensively, "What, you thought he was just some unintelligent creature? He has a mind too, far superior than any wizard's," Harry stated proudly.

Snape stared at him fiercely, before lowering his wand, slowly. "The dragon... Fírnen was it? He's capable of conscious thought?"

Harry nodded, a little more relaxed now Snape wasn't pointing his wand at him. "Yeah. He's partnered to my soul. Basically we're one person now, so if anyone threatens him, they're threatening me." Harry's reptilian eyes flared with anger. "I was keeping him a secret from everyone. It's _our_ job to kill Voldemort, and we don't want to involve anyone else. He'll kill them, and it will be our fault. We're the only ones that have the power to defeat him. So go on, run off to Dumbledore, but we're leaving once you do. We're not risking anyone's lives for our own. That's something I learned when Voldemort murdered Cedric." Harry glared at Snape, waiting for him to leave.

Snape stared at him without blinking for almost a minute. Harry glared back. Finally, Snape shook his head. "No. I'm not going to inform Dumbledore about this."

Harry's eyes widened. "Wait, what?"

"You are right. Enough innocent blood has been spilled by the Dark Lord because they were unable to protect themselves. It seems fate has gifted you with the power to destroy the Dark Lord. A power he knows not... As much as I respect Dumbledore, he would seek to use your powers... For the greater good," Snape finished bitterly.

Harry blinked at him in surprise. "Oh, well... That's cool... Thanks, I guess."

"On one condition," Snape continued.

Harry groaned. Should have known better.

"You allow me to train you in Occlumency. It is ridiculous how easily I infiltrated your mind, Potter," Snape sneered.

Harry glared back at him. "Shut up! You randomly attacked me for no reason! I just wasn't expecting it."

Snape raised a dark eyebrow. "You do realise that the Dark Lord is the most powerful practitioner of Legilimency and Occlumency currently alive, yes?"

Harry blinked again. "Oh crap."

**Tada! New update, huzzah. Thanks for reading, hope you liked it. Snape's awesome...  
By the way, I can't really update during the week coz I have school, but I will update on weekends. I don't abandon stories so don't think I've given up just coz I don't update every few days. Have no fear! I will return! Eventually...  
(it keeps saying Hermione in my author note and I don't know why...")****Hermione,**


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry I took so long to update. I had tests and lots of homework to do. **

After Potions and his talk with Snape, Harry headed for the Great Hall for break. Ron and Hermione had gone ahead, and his walk gave him time to think about what had just happened. Snape had attacked him, but then decided to help him. Snape knew his secret, but wasn't going to tell anyone. Snape was possibly good friends with his mother in school when they were young.

'From what I have seen in your memories, you greatly dislike the Snape man,' Fírnen said thoughtfully. 'Why did you agree to let him teach you? I am sure Manin would have taught us more once he woke up.'

Harry sighed to himself, 'I don't like him much, he's been an asshole to me since the day I met him. I got the feeling it was because he didn't like my parents, but now it seems he was friends with my mother. He said he'll teach me to defend my mind from Voldemort, and I would rather he didn't tell anybody else the true reason behind my change. I don't know, Fír, I just got the feeling we could trust him to help us, as much of a bastard as he is...'

'It's your choice Harry,' Fírnen said, 'But keep in mind that if he tries to harm you, I will rip his mind apart.'

Harry laughed softly to himself, 'Love you too, Fír.'

The dragon snorted in reply, 'I'm going hunting, I'm starving' he informed Harry, 'I'll try to stay as close to the school as I can, but I'm not flying. I will have to walk so I am not spotted, so I'll have to travel quite far for game.'

'Alright, talk to you later.'

Their connection broke, and Harry realised that he had reached the Great Hall which was already full of students. He hurried to his friends and sat, quickly grabbing the closest food available and wolfing it down, knowing he had less than five minutes to eat before his first lesson of Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"What did you and Snape talk about?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Oh," Harry said, "I, uhh, just wanted to ask if I'd gotten the potion right."

Hermione stared at him, frowning, but didn't say anything else. She knew something was going on, but she didn't want to upset Harry. She knew how much he hated Snape. "Well keep in mind that we're here if you need to talk about anything."

Harry gave her a stunning smile, and thanked her. All too soon, the bell rang, and everyone got up, heading for their next class.

On their way to their first class with the new defence teacher, Hermione could not stop chattering about how she hoped Umbridge would be a good teacher.

"She seems so nice!" Hermione exclaimed, "I wonder what section she'll start on first. We really need to work on our defensive spells if we want to pass our O.W.L.s, what do you think Harry?"

Harry shuddered and schooled his expression, clamping down on the nausea he was experiencing by just remembering what he had seen in Umbridge's mind. "She's a representative of the Ministry, Hermione. As nice as she might seem now," he felt sick even saying those words, "We don't know what the Ministry is here for. We have to be careful."

Ron stared at him with surprise, "I suppose that makes sense. Percy started working for the Ministry, and now he's an even bigger git than he was before. This Umbridge woman could be just as bad."

"Oh, stop it, you two," Hermione snapped, "Dumbledore wouldn't have hired her if she wasn't a good teacher. He wouldn't be a very good Headmaster if he let someone teach on the basis of their political standing."

Harry sighed, and watched the students as they flocked around the Defence Against the Dark Arts Classroom door, dreading the horrendous creature he could sense lurking within. "We'll just have to wait and see."

The students entered the classroom once the door swung open, revealing the short figure of Professor Umbridge standing at the front of the room before the blackboard.

"Come in, come in," she simpered sweetly, and smiled at them. Hermione immediately hurried to the very front desks, leaving Ron and Harry to trail after her. Harry cringed at how close he would be to Umbridge, but sat down beside Hermione anyway, resigning himself to what was to come. He was unwilling to leave Hermione so close to Umbridge by herself.

"Good morning, class," the toad said. There were a few mutters and half-hearted greetings in return, and Harry watched the woman as he sensed anger begin to build inside her.

"I think you can to better than that," she said, her pink nailed hands tightening their grip on her wand.

"Good morning, Professor."

"Much better," Umbridge giggled.

Hermione gazed at her, and slowly edged back in her seat. She was regretting sitting so far up front, as being in the presence of Umbridge was for some reason freaking her out. She looked sideways at Ron, who was scowling at the Professor's pink robes in disgust, and then at Harry, whose eyes were closed and fists were clenched.

Umbridge began to outline the work plan for the year, informing them that they would not be using their wands, and that they would be completing their course through theory work rather than practical. This was met by general uproar, and Hermione began questioning Umbridge, demanding the reasoning behind this choice. Harry listened to what was going on, but didn't get involved. Being near to Umbridge was horrific enough already without her actually _speaking_ to him.

"But, Professor!" Lavender Brown exclaimed, standing up abruptly, "Why won't we be learning spells? We'll need them for the fight against You-Know-Who!"

"Sit down, dear," Umbridge said, her sweet voice turned deadly, and she looked around at the now silent class "I don't know who has been telling you these lies, but they are false. You-Know-Who has not returned, so there is nothing for you to worry about. I don't want to hear such nonsense in my classroom again."

Immediately, the class was filled with yelling and shouting again.

"YOU'RE the one who's lying!"

"Yeah! Harry would never lie to us!"

"If he says You-Know-Who is back, then he is!"

"If He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named isn't back, then why did Cedric Diggory die?"

"SILENCE!" Umbridge shrieked. Everyone was so shocked by this outburst that they ceased their arguments, instead staring wide eyed at the teacher whose face was now as pink as her clothes. "These. Are. All. LIES. Mr. Diggory's death was a terrible accident, and you have all been fooled into believing false information. At least now we know where this information came from." She walked over to Harry's desk, and stood before him. Everyone held their breath, unsure as to what was going to happen.

"Yes, Ms. Umbridge?" Harry asked politely. On the inside, he was furious, and wanted nothing more that to pulverise this despicable excuse for a person, but he kept his outward appearance calm. He wouldn't let her manipulate him.

"My name is _Professor_ Umbridge," she said in a sickly sweet voice. "This may be too difficult for you to comprehend, but individuals who teach at Hogwarts are addressed as 'Professor'."

Harry frowned, his eyes still closed. "But you haven't taught us anything yet..."

Umbridge's face twitched with repressed fury. "You _will_ address me as Professor Umbridge, Mr. Potter." The only response she got was a slight shrugging of his shoulders. "And you will look at me while I am speaking to you!"

Harry cranked open an eye, and immediately shut it. "I can't," he groaned, "The colour of your _clothes_. Dear God, _my eyes_." The room was filled with laughter.

"SILENCE!" Umbridge screamed, her face now purple. "Listen to me, Potter. I will not tolerate insolence in my class. Neither will I tolerate lying. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has not returned, and if I ever hear you claim such a thing again, there will be severe consequences."

"Okay, _you_ won't hear me say anything," Harry said politely.

"YOU WILL NOT CLAIM SUCH A THING EVER AGAIN!"

Harry pantomimed zipping his lips closed, still not giving her his attention, remaining relaxed and indifferent in his chair.

"Detention, Potter!" Umbridge shrieked.

"Wait, what?" Harry said, an innocent expression on his face, "But Ms. Umbridge-"

"PROFESSOR!"

"-Ms. Umbridge, I haven't done anything wrong according to school rules."

"I am the teacher!" Umbridge screamed, "I will decide whether or not you deserve a Detention, Potter! Now you will have two days worth of punishment!"

"I see," Harry said thoughtfully, "Ministry employees abuse their power... that explains a lot."

Umbridge's face was now blue.

"We do not- that is a lie! Ministry employees are- A WEEK OF DETENTION!"

Hermione timidly raised her hand, coughing slightly to catch Umbridge's attention, and flinching when the toad's glare landed on her, "Umm, Professor? Harry's right. I read the rule book as soon I became a Prefect. If you give him a detention, you will be abusing your power over the students. As a Prefect, I am obligated to report such actions to the Headmaster, and as your employer, he will decide whether or not you should remain as a teacher at this school."

Umbridge looked like she was about to explode, but calmed herself after hearing Hermione's words. "There is no need for that, Ms...?"

"Granger, Professor."

"Ms. Granger," Umbridge said sweetly, "This is between myself and Mr. Potter. There is no need to involve the Headmaster."

"So you won't try to punish Harry?"

Umbridge's face contorted for a moment, trying to suppress a snarl, "That has yet to be decided, Ms. Granger. We shall have to see how Mr. Potter behaves during the remainder of class time."

Harry opened his eyes only so he could roll them, making sure to keep them averted from Umbridge, not because he feared what she would do if she saw him, but because her clothes were _really _pink...

Finally, class was over, and Harry left as quickly as he could, his friends hurrying along after him, just as eager as he to escape the incredible boredom that Umbridge's lessons inflicted caused them. Now Harry knew for certain that Umbridge would target him in later classes. She had tried to goad him into getting himself into trouble, but Harry knew she was going to attempt such a thing from his quick search of her mind the night before. He had seen the Ministry's plan. Discredit him, make it seem as if he was lying, and then the wizarding world would abandon him. The school seemed to have stuck by him, but what about the rest of the wizarding population? Did they hate him? Think he was an attention seeking brat?

Harry sighed, slowing down so his friends could catch up, and looked back at them. Ron and Hermione would stick by him no matter what. As long as he had his friends, who cared what anyone else thought of him?

"Whoa Harry, why the serious face?" Ron asked, "You might strain yourself if you think too much, mate."

Harry rolled his eyes and laughed. "Shut up, Ron."

Ron laughed, and playfully punched Harry's arm. Hermione sighed exasperatedly at their actions.

"_Boys_," she said, "Both of you are idiots." They protested, insulted, and it was Hermione's turn to laugh. "Oh, you know it's true. Without me, you both would have failed all your lessons years ago. If I wasn't here to beat you into doing your homework, you would still be repeating first year!"

"That's not true!" Ron protested, "I would have reached at least third year before I got held back without your help!" He then realised that he had just admitted to his own stupidity. "Hey!"

Harry and Hermione howled with laughter. When she calmed down, Hermione asked, "Harry, I'm really proud of how you handled the situation with Umbridge. I was sure you were going to start yelling at her or something."

Harry shrugged, "Guess I grew up over the summer. It was obvious she was just trying to manipulate me."

Hermione nodded, "She was definitely trying to turn the class against you. I never thought I'd say this, but I'm actually thankful for all your admirers. If you didn't have their support, who knows how the rest of the students would be treating you?"

Harry nodded seriously, pondering the question. Wizards weren't the most loyal when it came to supporting their 'heroes'. Just last year, no one would believe him when he said he hadn't put his name in the Goblet.

Ron interrupted his thoughts with a question. "Umbridge was trying to manipulate him? Wait, what?"

"Oh Ron..."

By the end of the day, all the fifth years were exhausted. The trudged back to the common room after dinner, bags laden with heavy books, with the most homework they had ever received in their whole schooling experience.

"It's the first day," Ron groaned, as he slumped into a chair for one of the many desks littered around the room. He plonked his bag on top of the table, and watched with worry as the table began to creak from the weight. Even a _table _thought his bag was heavy.

"This is our O.W.L. year, Ron," Hermione informed him, dropping her own bag, twice the weight of Ron's because of all her classes onto the floor. She sat down on one of the other two remaining chairs, and began rifling through the bag, bringing out her first piece of homework. "We're bound to get more homework. How else will we improve our studies?"

Harry sat down in the last free chair, eyeing his own bag in disgust. It hadn't been that heavy for him, his strength having improved since his transformation, and although he had studied a lot over the summer, homework was time consuming, and he really needed to go see Fírnen. The poor dragon was living in the forest, and he had no shelter. What happened if it rained? Could dragons get colds...?

He started his homework, and over the next hour, he managed to complete every assignment. He was just finishing up his potions essay, when he was interrupted by a tapping sound on the window beside him. His head shot up, and he saw a large black owl holding a thin package, about the length of his hand, balancing on the sill outside.

"Is that an owl?" Hermione asked in confusion, "Why is it here so late? The post was delivered this morning."

"It's for me," Harry told her as he opened the window, allowing the owl to hop inside. Harry petted the animal in thanks for the delivery, and the owl hooted with pride. He quickly untied he package from its leg. It was wrapped in brown paper, and a small note was attached to the side. Harry opened the letter first, reading through it. It was written in the Ancient Language, and so it took him a little longer to read than usual.

_Dear Harry,_

_We are sorry this could not be delivered in time for breakfast, but it took time to create a sword worthy of a Shur'tugal, and we were unwilling to rush its creation. This sword is perhaps the most beautiful item ever to be created by Goblinkind, and we are proud to have a hero such as yourself wield it. Its blade will never dull, and it is powerful enough to destroy even the foulest of dark magic. We hope you like it, and would appreciate it if you came to visit us once again with your dragon. It was a pleasure to assist you with your destiny, Mr. Potter, and we hope you will remember us after you defeat the Dark Lord._

_Your allies,_

_The Goblins of Gringotts_

Harry finished reading, and examined the package.

"What is it Harry?" Ron asked curiously.

"It's a package from Gringotts," Harry said truthfully. "It belonged to my parents, so the goblins decided to send it to me." The last part was not so truthful.

"That's nice," Hermione smiled, "I didn't think Goblins liked Wizards. You must have made a good impression on them the last time you were in Gringotts."

Harry smiled, "Yeah, they were really cool. I better open this to see what it is. I'm going to head up to the dormitory. I don't want everyone ogling me while I open it."

Ron looked like he wanted to protest, but kept his mouth shut as he realized that Harry's actions were being scrutinized by the majority of people in the Common Room. Harry packed up his bag along with the package, and hefted it over his shoulder. He stretched, and yawned.

"You know what? I think I'll go straight to bed after I open it. I'm really tired, and all my homework is done. There's no need for me to come back down. See you guys tomorrow."

"Night Harry," Hermione said, and she returned to her own essay, almost finished herself.

"Hang on, you're finished?" Ron exclaimed incredulously, "I haven't even completed one thing!"

Harry laughed and began to walk away. Hermione just looked annoyed. "Honestly Ronald, You've been working for more than an hour! How can you not be done yet?"

It took Harry five minutes took make his way across the room. He had to evade all the people who wanted to start conversations with him, the majority of which were girls, and for some reason, people kept offering him chocolates. He accepted none of them, fearing they might have been tampered with, and in the end he was forced to flee, sprinted toward the spiral staircase, not stopping until he was safe inside the dormitory. Luckily, it was empty of the other boys, and Harry sank onto his bed, pulling out the package and cradling it in his hands.

He unwrapped it, and found himself holding a thin, black, rectangular piece of metal. Another note was posted on it, and Harry read it.

Instructions:

Place sheath in pocket.

Pull out sword.

Harry stared at the instructions in confusion. The metal didn't look much like a sheath, but who was he to question goblins?

He stood up, and slid the metal into the right pocket of his school trousers. Immediately, his pocket felt heavier, but it still looked empty. Cautiously, Harry reached into his pocket again, and gasped as he felt his hand grasp around a handle of cool metal. He slowly pulled, and watched in awe as a green sword slid out of his pocket. Harry grinned to himself as the blade came free, a metre of deadly Brightsteel now held before him.

It was the most beautiful weapon he had ever seen. It shimmered in the light, looking almost to be made from liquid, and it glowed faintly. It was the exact same colour as the scales on Fírnen's back, and on the silver, elaborately decorated hilt, rested a beautiful emerald surrounded by green diamonds. He didn't even know diamonds _came_ in that colour.

It fit perfectly in one hand, meaning he could still use his other hand to perform magic with his wand, and it was about three inches in diameter, sharp on both sides, and coming to a deadly point at the top.

"Wow," Harry breathed, and felt his eyes heat up, and a warm presence envelope his mind.

'That is a beautiful sword,' Fírnen commented, examining the bladed through Harry's now reptilian eyes, 'The Goblins have truly outdone themselves.

'Yeah,' Harry sent back, 'It's amazing.'

_The perfect blade with which to kill the Dark Lord..._

**Thanks for reading, favourite, follow and review if you liked **


	9. Chapter 9

Harry gawked at the sword for a while, and then carefully slid it back into his pocket, and marvelled at the complexity of the Goblin's magic. Once in his pocket, the sword was undetectable, and except for the comforting weight, even Harry wouldn't be able to tell it was there.

Harry hurried over to his trunk and quickly changed pulled on a warm black hooded jumper over his uniform. He then pulled out his Invisibility Cloak, a sock containing a small object, and his Firebolt. He pulled on the cloak, and drew the hangings around his bed. If anyone were to enter the dormitory now, they would think Harry was asleep inside. He smirked to himself, and hurried over to the window beside his bed, kneeling on the window seat so he could tug it open. This took some careful pulling, as the window was stiff and Harry feared that if he used too much strength, he might break the window. He was sure he could fix it, but he worried about what attention the sound of breaking glass might bring.

Once the window was open, Harry carefully perched halfway out of the window and inhaled the brisk autumn air. The sun had just set, leaving the sky a beautiful lilac colour, and with a laugh, he jumped from the window. Midair, he mounted the Firebolt, and shot upwards, the loose folds of the cloak flapping around him. He checked to make sure it was concealing him from sight before he zoomed towards the Forbidden forest.

As he flew over the treetops, Harry called out with his mind. 'Fír, where are you?'

Fírnen sent him an image of a large clearing that contained a huge oak tree, and led him to his destination by a tendril of thought. Harry followed the trail and soon enough he was circling the biggest tree he had ever seen in his entire life. He whistled softly.

'Jeez Fír, this thing is huge!'

'It is perfect,' Fírnen sent back smugly, 'Now come down here. It is time to see if Manin managed to get any knowledge into that thick skull of yours.'

'That's just mean,' Harry pouted. Suddenly, he brightened, 'Wait a second. We basically share a mind. Insult me and you insult yourself. You just called yourself stupid. Hah, loser.' Harry sniggered as the dragon sent irritation through the bond.

'Shut up, midget.'

Still sniggering, Harry angled the broom downwards through the trees, swerving to avoid the branches. Just before he exited the tree cover, Harry sprang off of the broom, landing on a large branch, and tucked the broom into a nearby alcove. He made sure the cloak was still concealing him, and was about to jump down when an idea came to life. Harry masked his presence from Fírnen, and began to creep along the trees. When he reached a gap, he leapt across, swinging on other branches, managing to remain silent the entire time. Eventually, he found himself crouched on the branch directly above his unsuspecting dragon's head. He barely managed to suppress a laugh as he readied himself to jump.

With a howl, he jumped out of the tree. "SNEAK ATTACK!"

He narrowly avoided landing on Fírnen's neck spikes, something that would have undoubtedly been rather painful, but the risk was worth the result. Fírnen yelped in surprise, a plume of smoke escaping his mouth, and he toppled sideways, colliding with the ground and causing a load _thud._

Harry howled with laughter at the emotions flowing through the now reopened bond. Fírnen had been scared shitless, and Harry rolled to his feet, standing proudly. He whipped off the Invisibility Cloak, and dramatically pointed at the dragon who was still lying on his side. "That, my dear dragon, was something called revenge. It was a lesson on the consequences of embarrassing me in front of Goblins. I AM THE MASTER OF STEALTH!"

Fírnen roared, and lunged at Harry, his embarrassment at being snuck up on quickly transforming into anger. 'Master of Stealth? How ridiculous! If not for that wretched cloak, you would have failed abysmally. I was merely distracted by the lack of your obnoxious, idiotic mind from my own. Be silent!'

Harry pranced out of the way of the claws, and with surprising speed, jumped upwards and disappeared back into trees.

'Get back here, you little shrimp!'

Harry's laughter echoed down from the foliage, "Only if you promise not to murder me. It's all just fun and games after all. More importantly, what's with all the 'short' jokes? I'll have you know that after my transformation, I became rather tall by human standards."

'You are short to me.'

"That's because you're a bloody dragon!"

'... Munchkin.'

Harry scowled but dropped from the tree. "Whatever. Hey, when I jumped out of the tree, did I see smoke?"

Fírnen stood proudly and inspected his ivory claws. 'You did. Manin told me that once I began to start breathing smoke, fire would follow soon after.'

"Great!" Harry exclaimed, "We can set Umbridge on fire!"

Fírnen snorted with amusement, 'That we could.' Harry laughed for a while before he sobered abruptly.

"I brought it, Fír," Harry said seriously. All mirth fled Fírnen's jewel-like eyes, and his upper lip curled back in a feral snarl.

'Let us destroy it. Now.'

Harry nodded, and carefully pulled out the sock.

'... You put it in a sock? A yellow _sock_?_"_

"Shut up," Harry muttered, "I need to concentrate. This thing is evil."

'Be careful.'

"What do you think I've been doing?" Harry muttered before he upended the sock onto the leaf strewn ground. With a flash of gold and green, a locket fell out.

Harry eyed the Horcrux warily. "The Goblins said that my sword should be able to destroy it. Guess this is the trial run, huh?"

Fírnen rustled his wings uncomfortably. 'If the sword fails, we will just find a different way. We must do whatever we can to destroy these evil monstrosities.'

Harry narrowed his eyes at the locket, and reached into his pocket. Slowly, the blade came unsheathed, and its metal seemed to ripple like water as the last of the light from the sky seeped away. He tightened his hand around the cool metal of the handle. Slowly, he raised the sword above his head.

_Harry Potter... _

Harry dropped his sword in surprise as Voldemort's cruel voice filled the clearing.

'Harry, destroy it! It's just the Horcrux! Ignore it!' Fírnen snarled.

_Harry Potter, you will die..._

"Shut up!" Harry roared, clutching his head as gruesome images began to fill it.

_Harry Potter, your friends will all die..._

Harry glared ferociously at the locket. "DON'T YOU _DARE_-"

_Your friends will die_... The malicious voice hissed. Harry was once again assaulted by images. The mutilated corpses of Ron and Hermione, Sirius and Remus, the Weasleys, his classmates-

"SHUT UP!"

'Harry, destroy it!' Fírnen howled as Harry dropped to his knees. He lunged towards the fallen boy, but just as he did, Voldemort spoke once more.

_Even your PATHETIC dragon shall perish..._

Images of Fírnen's tortured body filled Harry's mind, and with them, the sensation of what it would be like to lose his dragon. The agony. The horror. His very _soul _ripping in half. Bad move.

With an almighty roar of loss, Harry's eyes shot open, so full of fury that they looked to be filled with green flames. Harry looked so terrifying that Fírnen actually recoiled in surprise. Harry's hands searched the ground, and he was once again wielding his sword. He screamed with rage, and the sword came slicing down.

With a blinding light, Harry was thrown backwards, his scar burning excruciatingly, a feeling shared with Fírnen through their bond, and Fírnen was knocked to the ground once again.

'Harry!' Fírnen thought frantically. He quickly enveloped Harry's mind with his own, and surged upwards until he was standing once again. He unfurled his wings and swept across the clearing.

When he reached Harry's prone form he let out a mournful cry and curled up around Harry, who wasn't answering him.

'Harry! HARRY!'

"Arrrghhhh," Harry groaned, beginning to stir, "Ugghh, my head. Crap, I'm blind... Wait, no... Why is there a wing in my face?"

'You are alright, Little One,' Fírnen thought in relief, letting out a big sigh. 'What the hell is wrong with you, idiot? Listening to a Horcrux and _then_ blowing it up? You had better ask that Snape man for lessons, and fast. You were easily manipulated, and by only a _fragment_ of the Evil One's soul.' Fírnen curled his tail around Harry, as if reassuring himself that Harry was there and alright. 'Why was I cursed with such a _stupid_ Rider? Stupid, _stupid_, STUPID-'

"Fírnen!" Harry gasped, "Can't - BREATHE!"

Fírnen blinked his jewel-like eyes, and loosened his hold slightly. 'You will not take a risk like that again. You have already lost your family to the Dark Lord. I will not lose you.'

"It's okay, Fír," Harry said softly, wrapping his arms around the dragons scaled head, "I'm fine. You're not going to lose me."

'I will if we don't become stronger,' Fírnen replied mournfully. Through the bond, Harry could feel Fírnen's despair and worry.

"We _will_ become stronger!" Harry exclaimed, frowning with determination. "This summer we managed to complete the majority of our magical studies, AND we learned how to defend ourselves. We have the rest of Fifth year before we even have to consider confronting Voldemort. Hogwarts is the safest place in the world right now. Also, Snape said he would teach me Occlumency and I've already got Legilimency covered. Soon you'll be able to breathe fire, and we'll be able to fly together! Don't worry Fírnen, I promise you we _will_ win this. We'll win this together."

Fírnen let out a puff of smoke, and leaned his head on top of Harry's. 'We had better,' the dragon growled, 'Because if we lose, I will kill you myself.'

Harry laughed and scratched the leathery skin by Fírnen's jaw, even though he was slowly being crushed by the weight of Fírnen's skull. The dragon hummed with happiness. "Voldemort's going down," Harry said confidently.

Eventually, Harry managed to convince Fírnen to stop strangling him with his tail, and he walked over the locket. He crouched down beside the smouldering remains, and with no hesitation, prodded the metal.

'HARRY!'

"What? It's dead!"

'You didn't know that when you poked it.' If Fírnen was a human, Harry knew he would be glaring.

Harry sighed and picked up the mangled locket. "One down, hopefully not that many to go."

'We are cursed with your bad luck,' Fírnen sighed, 'There's probably going to be numerous soul fragments.'

"You're such an optimist," harry said sarcastically. He stared down at the locket for a few moments more before using all his strength to throw the piece of jewellery away as far as he could. He dusted off his hands, and approached the huge oak tree in the middle of the clearing, slightly unsteady. "So anyway, back to the other reason why I came out here. You need a house."

'I am a dragon,' Fírnen sniffed, 'I am not a weak hatchling that can't survive a bit of rain-"

"Fírnen, you do realise that it rains in Hogwarts about 9 days out of ten, yeah?"

'Build me a house, slave,' Fírnen announced.

Harry rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the tree. "Okay Harry, time to channel your epic elf powers," he muttered to himself. He cleared his throat, closed his eyes in concentration, and then, he began to sing.

Singing in the Ancient Language, Harry's beautiful voice echoed throughout the clearing and the surrounding forest. He focused solely on the massive oak before him, and slowly, the tree began to change. As the song went on, and large shelter began to form, a roost fit for a dragon. He manipulated the branches to form a watertight roof, and he made sure that the shelter would be unnoticeable from the ground, but yet still have an entrance large enough to fit Fírnen. As he sang, Harry also felt his energy begin to ebb away. 'Guess this is what Manin said amount Life Magic needing life transfer,' harry thought to himself, grimacing as he felt his knees begin to buckle. He hardened his resolve, and continued to sing. This leaching of energy was how magic had been performed millennia before. If they could do it, so could Harry.

After almost an hour of nonstop singing, Harry was sitting cross-legged and exhausted before the huge oak tree, now Fírnen's new home. Fírnen stood over Harry, and breathed a gust of warm air onto his head, causing his already messy hair to become even more dishevelled.

"It's finished," Harry announced tiredly, rubbing his eyes.

'I guess this solves the mystery of whether or not you can perform Life magic with your wizard core. You can't.'

"Really?" Harry replied, raising an eyebrow, "I just figured I suddenly got really tired for absolutely no reason whatsoever."

Fírnen growled, and shoved Harry, causing the elfling to stumble. He was just about to tell Harry off for using sarcasm, when his sharp hearing picked up the sounds of life. While distracted by Harry's singing, they had been surrounded. 'Harry, we have company.'

Harry's eyes darted around, and then widened slightly as their silent spectators revealed themselves. A few of possibly every magical creature Harry had ever studied was now in the huge clearing with them. Centaurs, Acromantula, Unicorns, Brownies, Hinkypunks, Hippogriffs, and the beautiful Thestrals that had pulled the carriages the day before, all were present. Harry gulped nervously. 'Fírnen, how did we not notice them?'

'I do not know,' the dragon replied, curling himself around Harry so that the boy was protected by iron hard scales from all angles. He snarled at the creatures in challenge.

A large centaur stepped forward, and deliberately lowered his bow before placing it carefully on the ground. The centaur was a deep brown colour, and his brethren copied his actions.

Then, to both Harry and Fírnen's shock, the noble centaur bowed. Once he did, so did the others. It was like a wave, a rippling effect as every magical creature bowed its head towards Fírnen and Harry. Fírnen gazed back at them, regally, in a way known only to dragons. Harry, on the other hand, stood gaping at them all in shock and confusion.

And then, as one, all those that could speak said, "Hail Shur'tugal! Hail Bjartskular!"

Harry choked is surprise. "Huh?"

By the time Harry returned to his dormitories through the unlocked window, it was well past midnight. As he quietly entered the room full of snoring, he thought about what had just happened. As with all the other magically creatures Harry had met thus far, they had automatically known him for what he truly was. They had called him Saviour, and Harry honestly didn't know what to make of it.

Of course, he wanted nothing more than to destroy Voldemort, to free the magical world from his evil clutches, but never before had he thought about his fellow magical creatures. As a Dragonrider, Harry now had responsibilities, responsibilities that he feared he would be unable to handle. What if he failed them? What if they got killed and it was all his fault? Harry already had so much on his shoulders, why should he have to deal with more?-

Harry immediately banished these thoughts.

No. He had been given these powers for a reason, and he had to do everything he could to save lives. If not him, then who? Harry had never considered himself a hero, because he had just dealt with situations as they were thrown at him. He hated the attention his status of 'the Boy Who Lived' gave him. He was only fifteen, for Merlin's sake!

Harry rubbed his eyes tiredly and quickly and silently changed out of his clothes into his pyjamas before climbing into bed. He sat under the covers, his chin resting on his blanket covered knees, and he stared out of the window at the stars shining brightly overhead. As he lost himself in their beauty, he remembered that he had yet to name his sword. He reached over the side of the bed, and plucked his trousers off of the floor. He pulled out the sword, and examined it in the soft moonlight.

The beautiful weapon shimmered and glowed, and Harry's eyes widened as he realised that though it had glowed earlier, it now shone with an even brighter light. He examined the jewels in the handle of the wicked sharp blade carefully, and gasped as he searched the emerald and the diamonds depths. What looked like fire roiled in the gems, surrounded by the shimmering waves of green, and immediately Harry understood what it was.

Somehow, the sword had absorbed the shard of Lord Voldemort's soul.

Harry would have been repulsed, had he not sensed the purity coming from the sword. There was no evil in it, for it had merely taken the energy from the shard, and converted it into magic power. Harry marvelled at the beautiful weapon, with its shimmering metal, and the fire that burned in its emerald heart.

"I shall name you Arucane, the Living Fire."

A man with the features of a snake lounged on a large, obsidian throne, reading an old, leather-bound book. The huge chamber in which he resided was dark and silent but for the occasional slither and hiss of a huge snake that coiled around the base of the throne, wrapping itself against the man's bare feet.

The man occasional ran his foot along the length of the snake absently, hissing back at it, before returning his attention to the massive tome in which he was enrapt. None of his followers dared disturb his studies, even though none of them knew what it was he was reading. The book was ancient, the pages yellowed and frayed, and if it wasn't for the preservation spell the snake-like man had cast on it, the book would have no doubt crumbled to dust.

"_A dragon and a man, you say?"_ He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named hissed in a high, evil voice.

"_Yesss, my lord_," the huge snake replied.

"How very interesting," lord Voldemort said to himself softly. He continued examining the book, entranced by the page that displayed a huge blue dragon, on top of which sat a pointed eared young man, seated in a saddle.

Voldemort flipped the page, and another, and another, and he was just about to flip to the next, when a paragraph caught his attention. It took him a few moments to decipher the strange language in which the book was written, but when he did, his blood red eyes widened with evil glee.

"Harnessing Spirits... very interesting indeed..."

**Thanks for reading. Review and whatnot. Next update will be next weekend :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**I'm back! Hooray and all that. Thank you sooooooo much for being patient. I know it's been about a month since my last update, and for that I'm really sorry. Exams suck. If anyone hasn't noticed, I'm reeeeeeeeeally not following canon, I've kind of mushed all my favourite parts of the books together and added dragons. Its kinda been filler chapters for the last few updates but the chapter after this one is gonna have fighting and crap, I pwomise, so worry not, dear reader!**

The two months following Harry's first trip into the forest passed quickly. Classes were fine, except for the constant torment supplied by Umbridge that Harry refused to be manipulated by, and although the teachers were quite surprised by the changes that had occurred in Harry over the summer, none of them really said anything. He guessed Dumbledore might have something to do with it, but the Headmaster was still avoiding him, something which perplexed Harry to no end. Harry didn't find classes as difficult as he used to, thanks to Manin's teachings, and his newfound need to perfect all the things he learned was met with approval by Hermione, and disgust by Ron, who had been counting on Harry to be his Partner in Procrastination.

It was Friday night, and Harry was looking forward to getting a full night of sleep. He had been visiting Fírnen whenever he could in the forest, and the lack of rest was beginning to show. He had dark smudges under his eyes, and had fallen asleep in History of Magic earlier that day. Not that it was a very important class, but Manin had said that history was important because 'We must learn from past mistakes so we do not repeat them in the future' ... or something. Well screw that, sleep was important too.

Harry thought back at how his two months of school had passed. 'Confrontations' with Umbridge where she would hiss veiled threats with that sickly sweet voice, and Harry would force himself not to react. He could tell she was getting desperate in her attempts to give him a detention. His guess was she wanted to prove him to be a delinquent in order to undermine his fellow students support for him. Well, Harry would rather not give her the chance. No matter how much he wanted to hex that ugly, toad-like face, Harry held his tongue, restraining the fierce rage that wanted to be released in the form of a gleaming green sword slammed into the face of a certain, pink clad 'teacher'.

The day after his confrontation with Snape had found Harry in the dungeons with his least favourite teacher. For whatever warped, messed up reason he had, Snape's deal was that he would only keep Harry's new identity a secret if he could train Harry's mind out of its 'idiotic simplicity'. The comment hadn't improved Harry's opinion of Snape in the slightest, but if there was one thing Harry was sure of, he did not want Dumbledore to find out about Fírnen. Not yet at least. Besides, Dumbledore was ignoring him.

He wasn't sure where his sudden mistrust for those in power had come from. Maybe it was simply his lack of want for this newfound freedom that had come along with his bonding with Fírnen to disappear. As much as Harry trusted the Headmaster, he knew Dumbledore would want to control Harry, even if it was because he wanted to help him. Harry already had a teacher in Manin, and he knew that Dumbledore would not understand what Harry had become.

So a secret it would stay.

"Potter, are you listening to me?" Snape had drawled.

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Yes Professor, you were about to explain your theory behind my failure at building protection around my mind."

"Hmm, good, Potter. It seems you might have managed to inherit a sliver of your mother's intelligence. I'm afraid the rest is all your father... such a pity."

Harry glared at the Potions Master, "Sir, it's become obvious over the years that for some reason, you hated my dad. You said you would help me, but if 'help' to you means insulting my _dead parents_, then I'm leaving."

Snape sneered, "I will speak as I wish, Potter. You'd think with all your fame you would have developed a tougher skin."

It was then, Harry was a little ashamed to say as he thought back on it, that he had somewhat lost it.

"_You think I WANT to be famous_?! The only reason I_ have_ fame is because my parents were MURDERED. I _hate_ the way people act around me, I _hate_ the attention, but most of all," Harry snarled furiously, "I _despise _the people who dare to insult the parents that sacrificed themselves to protect me. You talk of my mother as if you were friends, yet here you are, acting like a bastard to her only son, and insulting the husband who died for her!"

Snape stared at him, eyes narrowing with irritation and slight surprise. "You will not speak to me that way, Potter," he said dangerously, but without his usual sneer, "You don't know my reasons for hating your father. I am sure that if you knew, you would not be so quick to defend him. However, and it pains me to say this... You are right. I said I would assist you in training your mind, and so I shall." Now the sneer returned, "It seems the fate of the Wizarding World rests on your young, moronic shoulders. If you are to defeat the Dark Lord, you will need all the assistance you can get. And by Merlin you will need a lot..."

Harry raised an eyebrow at the Professor. It wasn't an apology, but Harry had been expecting at least a week's worth of detention for his outburst. He nodded stiffly, and sat down in the seat opposite Snape. "So... You really were friends with my mother?" Snape gave a minute nod. "Well... What was she like? Am I like her?"

"Your mother was a brilliant witch. The best in our year, actually. She came from a muggle family, as you know, but that did nothing to hinder her success. We lived in the same muggle neighbourhood, and I knew her even before we went to Hogwarts. We were close friends until..."

Harry was sitting on the each of his seat, soaking up this information about the mother he never knew. "Until...?"

Snape cleared his throat, "Enough of this idle chatter, Potter. Any time spent in your presence is time wasted. We will move forward with this lesson, and I do not wish to hear any complaints."

"But wait! I want to know-"

"Be quiet, Potter," Snape snarled. Harry was about to protest when he saw an unexpected emotion in Snape's eyes. Sadness. He quelled the urge to say more and just nodded. He would ask Snape more at another time. "Now," Snape continued in a calm, bored voice once again, "We will start with the basic calming techniques. As I was saying earlier, my theory on your failure at creating a mental shield, is that perhaps you are more suited to the wizarding equivalent of blocking your thoughts. Your... teacher... seems to have been training you in the old ways, ways that have been lost to wizards for millennia. Nowadays, shielding the mind is very different. The spells used to infiltrate the mind are different from whatever magic existed in the times of old. It would be impossible to block Legilimens with anything other than Occlumency. Legilimency is the only kind spell of its kind and strength, and it is the technique favourited by the Dark Lord for invading the mind."

"Well, what else can I do? How can I shield my mind if I don't build a shield?"

Snape rolled his mind, "Potter, Occlumency is _clearing_ the mind."

"... That makes no sense..."

Snape sighed, "Let's start with meditation. If you're even capable of that..." he finished darkly.

Harry climbed into his bed and with a wave of his wand, drew the hangings, obscuring him from the rest of the room. He sighed happily as he dispelled the glamour on his ears, and lay down in the bed, rubbing them as they tingled with the last of the magic as it faded away. He wished he knew how to do a full-body glamour. As much as he loved his elvish gifts, such as the increased speed and strength, he really could have done without the questions that came with the new look. Numerous students had been asking what he had gotten up to over the summer. He was thankful that while he had been changed, he still retained his base features, and therefore still looked like himself, albeit more defined. He was horrified when he considered what would have happened if he had been changed beyond recognition...

Strangely, while many people asked about the new look, and were sent away with excuses of exercise and healthy eating, the Headmaster was not one of them. Harry had been expecting Dumbledore to approach him on his first day back, but the Headmaster seemed to be going out of his way to avoid him.

Harry banished such thoughts from his mind. He couldn't get worked up over that now. He needed to sleep, and questioning Dumbledore's actions were a sure way to a sleepless night. He calmed his breathing, and allowed himself to fall asleep, briefly wondering how Fírnen was doing. They hadn't spoken since that morning...

_Streams of colour, and flashes of faces. A burning plain strewn with charred bodies, and a huge blue beast gliding overhead. Then a forest, black and silver hair flitting through the branches, and a white raven on the shoulder of a woman in red . Then a burnt farm, and a clearing with a burnt centre. A man with brown hair and pointed ears astride a sapphire dragon, sailing over a burning city, then-_

_A corridor, at the end of which was a door. Harry, once again aware of who he was, walked towards it. What was behind it, he wondered. The urge to know rose within him. He HAD to open that door. Something important was behind it, something he needed. Harry-_

"-arry, wake up, mate. Here, Seamus, will you open his hangings? Harry! We're going to be late for breakfast!"

Harry sat up abruptly, and managed to cast a weak glamour charm before his hangings were thrown open.

"Blimey, Harry, for someone who slept in, you don't seem that rested," Seamus observed. Harry groaned as the blindingly bright morning light caused the headache that was already pounding in his head to increase tenfold. Arrghhh, scar...

"Harry?" Ron asked in concern as he paused in shrugging on his cloak, "You alright? You look like crap."

"Thanks for that," Harry groaned sarcastically, and flopped back onto the bed, rubbing his eyes and running a hand through his messy hair. He slowly slunk out of bed, heading into the bathroom to clean up a bit before changing into his robes. As he was rummaging around his bed for his bag, he looked out the window. He could see the forest in the late autumn light, the deciduous trees a golden brown colour, most of their leaves already lost.

'Fír? You there?'

Harry waited a moment, sighing in disappointment when he failed to hear a reply, before a growl rumbled across his thoughts.

'I was sleeping, shrimp,' Fírnen snarled grumpily, 'Why the hell did you wake me up? Shouldn't you be in classes or something?'

'I'm not a shrimp,' Harry sent back, glaring at a wall, causing Neville to stare at him with worry. He gave Neville a reassuring smile before returning his attention to the internal conversation. 'I think Manin showed me a memory last night.'

'I saw it too,' Fírnen replied. 'War, destruction, and death. It was not a lot, but it was enough to begin our understanding of what the world was like for our predecessors. I am unsure as to what the corridor was, though. Perhaps it holds some significance to our current war. There must be a reason why Manin showed it to us.'

'Yeah, well I hope he doesn't send us memory flashbacks too often,' Harry grumbled, nodding at Ron who was telling him to hurry up. He tugged on his shoes and hurried over to the door, rushing through the Common Room with Ron as they were both unwilling to miss breakfast. 'My head is killing me. Especially my scar, which is kinda weird. Manin showed us a memories before to help us with our magic and swordsmanship, but I've never had a reaction to it. Maybe it's just because Manin is asleep right now.' Harry absently rubbed a hand over his sleeve covered arm, smiling slightly as the dragon tattoo heated up in response.

'Highly probable. We shall talk more on this later. You will come visit me in the forest tonight. It's been three days since I last saw you and I'm getting bored. We should try flying.'

Harry chuckled to himself, causing Ron to give him a weird look as they entered the Great Hall. Harry just shrugged, "The smell of food cheered me up."

Ron laughed, "Yeah, food's amazing. Oh look, there's Hermione! Crap, she's got a book. Did we have more homework? Hmmm, I didn't do that essay Flitwick assigned us. He didn't give us a lot of time."

Harry rolled his eyes, "Ron, he gave that essay to us a week ago. You told Hermione you finished it!"

Ron scratched his head sheepishly, "Well, that was because she was harping on about it. I feel a bit betrayed, you know. Me and you used to be lazy together. Now you're all like, 'I need to study this evening, I'll see you guys in an hour!', and then you're gone for three! You're a right nerd nowadays, mate. I don't know what happened to you over the summer, but it warped your priorities."

They made their way over to Hermione, whose nose was indeed buried in a book, "Voldemort returned, Ron, and he's after me. I would be a fool not to study as hard as I could. If I don't, it could be the death of me. Or of someone I care about." Harry didn't mention that a lot of his 'study time' was actually visiting Fírnen in the forest and playing with the magical creatures that lived there. So far, the Thestrals were his favourites.

"Well when you put it that way, I guess you're right," Ron sighed, flinching at the mention of the name, "Just don't tire yourself out too much. You look like you didn't get much sleep last night," Ron commented in concern as they sat down.

Hermione looked up briefly as they sat down before returning to her book, spooning scrambled eggs into her mouth without removing her gaze from the words that held her attention.

"Morning 'Mione," Ron said, leaning across the table in order to catch a glance at the title, "'The Most Ancient of Ancient Runes'" he read, "What kind of book is that? Looks bloody boring, if you ask me. What are you reading it for? It looks like it belongs in one of those muggle museums."

Hermione scowled at him in annoyance. "It's not boring, Ronald. If you ever bothered to pick up a real book you'd know quality when you saw it. This is the best book on Ancient Runes in existence."

"Why are you reading it?" Harry asked, repeating Ron's question.

"I want to know what that mark on your right hand means," Hermione replied coolly. "I saw it last week when you came back from Quidditch practice. I thought it was odd because I hadn't seen it before that. It was gone the next day, but it's there this morning. Look Ron, see the silver design?"

"Blimey mate," Ron spluttered, "How many tattoos did you get this summer?!"

"He has more?" Hermione asked sharply.

"Yeah, a bloody big dragon!"

Harry tried to remain calm on the outside, but he was panicking internally. 'Shit, shit, shit! Why didn't I wear gloves? I keep forgetting to disguise my hand! I didn't think anyone noticed last week. The glamour was dispelled during the practice match with the rest of the team, I couldn't concentrate on both it and my ears! Why did Seamus have to cause a panic this morning?'

'Calm down, Harry!' Fírnen snarled, 'You said you wanted to keep me a secret until I was strong enough. It has been almost two months since we arrived here! I am not a hatchling. Just tell them. They are your friends, are they not?'

'I... I can't,' Harry thought back miserably. 'I've kept you a secret for almost half a year! I've been lying about where I've been going, and even avoiding them so I could visit you. Fírnen, they won't trust me after this.'

Fírnen snorted with irritation, 'Dear Merlin, what are you, a twelve year old girl? They are your friends! They accepted your transformation, and they will accept the reasons behind it. You are, to coin the muggle term, being a Drama Queen.'

"- got post, Harry?"

"What?"

Hermione rested her head in her hands with exasperation. "Harry, that owl has been pecking your hand for about a minute now."

Harry looked down and flushed as he noticed the tawny owl, which looked quite displeased with him, sitting on the table before him.

"Sorry, sorry," he muttered, quickly removing the letter from the owl's leg, and feeding it some bacon before it unfurled its wings and shot away, back to wherever it came from.

"Who's it from, Harry?" Ron asked through a mouthful of sausage.

"Don't know," he replied before opened the envelope. The letter he pulled out had the Gringott's emblem at the top. He quickly read through it, his face lighting up with excitement with every word he read.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_Greetings to you Shur'tugal, and to your dragon. We Goblins hope that you are satisfied with your sword, and we ask that if you ever find yourself in need of armour or alternate weapons, that you come to us for them. However, that is not the reasoning behind our sending of this letter. During your last visit, you asked whether or not the sword we crafted for you would be capable of destroying a Horcrux. As you are currently at war with the Dark Lord, it became apparent that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was the most likely cause for such a question._

_After your visit, we decided to search Gringott's for 'unsavoury' artefacts, and we were beyond shocked to discover that residing within the Lestrange Vault was in fact, a Horcrux. As the Lestranges were devout servants of the Dark Lord, we can only assume that this Horcrux belongs to the Dark Lord himself. We want more than anything to assist you in your task of destroying your enemy, but unfortunately, we are held by the binding contract between Bank and Customer, and can therefore not remove anything from a Wizard's vault without their permission. _

_However, we believe we may have found a loophole. _We_ may not be able to remove the Horcrux from the Vault, but _you_ can. If you wouldn't mind breaking into Gringott's and removing the Horcrux, we would be greatly indebted to you. Send your snowy owl with your reply as soon as possible, and we will hopefully expect another 'visit' before Christmas._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Ragnok, _

_Gringott's Bank_

"What's the letter about, Harry?" Ron asked curiously.

"The goblins need me to sort out something to do with my parents vault," Harry replied nonchalantly. Ron just shrugged and returned to his food, but Hermione continued to stare at him over her book. Harry clenched his marked hand, and gulped uneasily, avoiding her gaze. He sighed to himself, and rubbed his still slightly throbbing head. Fírnen was right. He needed to tell them... before Hermione figured it out all on her own. He eyed the book in her arms thoughtfully. Maybe there were books about Dragonriders somewhere in the Library... After all, they _were _a part of Magical History, even if they had been forgotten by most wizards.

Harry glanced up at the teacher's table. Dumbledore was absent, once again, and most of the teacher's were chatting calmly amongst themselves. Snape caught Harry's eye as his eyes slid past him, nodding slightly. Harry nodded back, as equally inconspicuous. They had a lesson later, and Harry was looking forward to learning more, now that he had learned the basics of clearing his mind.

As Harry's gaze travelled farther along the table, Harry noticed that Umbridge was staring at him, her eyes narrowed with hatred. He stared back, frowning slightly, and tilting his head to the side. She hadn't managed to make him to lose his temper in the last two months during class. He knew it was driving her crazy, and hoped she wouldn't try anything too drastic. He had double DADA later that day, and he was dreading it, for he knew from that evil glint in her toad-like eyes, that she had something truly horrific planned.

**Thank you for reading. I hope you liked the chapter, sure as hell been waiting for it long enough. I'm on my Christmas holidays now so YAAYY MORE UPDATES! Review if you want, I gotta go wrap presents now. Huzzah**HarryHhiohfoawiriegjHhefjnfi woeifhoihfiklkn


	11. Chapter 11

**I'M SO SORRY! I know I've been gone for ages, APOLOGIES. Well I'm back now, and hopefully this chapter is okay. I'm writing this at 2am so pardon me if its crappy :P**

Harry was feeling rather apprehensive as he trailed after Ron and Hermione as they walked towards his doom/DADA lesson. That hate filled looked she had given him during breakfast had promised trouble, and Harry steeled himself against the thought of what she was going to do. The last two months hadn't been _that_ bad... Well actually, thinking back on it, if Umbridge had arrived before his bonding with Fírnen, Harry was almost positive he would have already lost it, and cursed the bitch to oblivion. His bonding with Fírnen had changed him quite a lot. Gone was the constant depression caused by his lack of a family, gone was the lack of control over his fiery temper (well, _most _of the time...), and his bouts of teenage angst didn't occur as often as they used to. Nowadays he could have a verbal spar with Malfoy that didn't leave his face deformed by a scowl for the rest of the day. For the first time in his life, Harry was actually, dare he say it, happy.

Well, apart from the fact that he had yet to find the courage to tell Ron and Hermione about his new dragon bro's, and how he trained all summer and the months he'd been back at school with aforementioned dragon bro's, one of which was currently merged with his skin, and that his recent 'change' was caused by him turning into an elf... person... thing...

Once this class was over, he needed to meet with Fír in the forest. The letter from the goblins had gave him much to think about, and because of the new discovery of a Horcrux, they would have to act quickly, tonight if possible. There had been another letter in the envelope along with the first, giving instructions on how to enter the bank, and he needed to go over them again with Fírnen. Who knew when Voldemort might move it? It was a Friday, so if he went tonight, he could sleep for the weekend and hopefully manage to get his homework done. As for _getting_ to the bank, Fír was five months old, now. It was high time to see if they could fly together...

"Harry, come on! Stop moving so slow! We're going to be late!" Hermione scolded but she was suppressing a smile at his grumpy expression. Ron smirked as well. The petulant expression on Harry's face was rather endearing. He always got grumpy whenever they had DADA, but his best friends didn't worry as much anymore. Harry always kept his temper in check.

Harry, unaware of his friends' amusement, scuffed his shoes along the stone floor of the corridor, muttering to himself darkly when he looked up to see the dreaded door looming before him. One simple Word, and he could blow that goddamn door to smithereens...

"Ugghhhh," Harry groaned, "Fiiiine..."

Ron shot him an amused look. "Stop looking so mopey, Harry. You've survived this long, it's not like Umbitch-" he winced at the look Hermione gave him, "-err, Umbridge, can get any worse."

Harry rolled his eyes heavenwards, "Why did he say that?"

Hermione laughed, whilst Ron just looked confused as to why Harry was talking to the ceiling. She then proceeded to grab both of their arms, and drag them the rest of the way into the classroom. They were the last to arrive, but luckily the class had yet to begin. The three of them hurried to their seats in the middle row of the room, giving a few nods in greeting to their fellow Gryffindors.

There wasn't much conversation to be had in the room. They'd had Umbridge as a teacher for a few months now, and they all understood the rules by now. They would stay quiet and pretend to read the books, Umbridge would sit at her desk sipping tea, and they would all scowl and facepalm when Umbridge began her attempts to get a rise out of Harry. Well, most of them would. A few students *cough-Malfoy-cough* would snigger and laugh at Harry's expense.

And Harry would just sit there and let his mind wander, usually travelling through the link with Fírnen to watch what the dragon was up to, or practicing his Occlumency shields. If clearing your mind while a pink toad simpered insults and taunts at you for an hour straight wasn't a good method for training, Harry didn't know what was. He just added the anger and irritation caused by her words to the boiling mass of rage that he shoved into the back of his mind, and kept his face blank, glazed eyes staring out of the window towards the forest outside.

The murmuring chatter died out immediately once Umbridge entered the room. She was neither intimidating, nor worthy of the 'respect', but everyone was aware of the consequences of speaking out of turn. According to Seamus, detentions with Umbridge were horrible. Something about cleaning plates with kittens on them...?

"Quiet now, children," Umbridge sweetly demanded to the already silent class, "Today, we will be beginning our studies of Halfbreeds. I know such a subject is unworthy of the time of such young and _bright _witches and wizards such as yourselves, but I'm afraid that the Hogwarts curriculum states that all children must be knowledgeable of such creatures, no matter how inconsequential they are."

Try as he might, Harry could not stop the glare that contorted his face at her words. He had been aware of her hatred of 'halfbreeds' as she called them since the start of the year, but he hadn't thought she would actually try to teach a class like this because of her racist opinions on them. Protruding, toad-like eyes flicked over to Harry, and the amphibian-ish smile widened. He quickly calmed his expression, leaving it cool and uninterested, going as far as slouching in his chair. He looked up to see Umbridge still examining him, and raised in eyebrow in question. He saw a flash of anger in her eyes before she too schooled her expression. If she thought derogatory comments on halfbreeds would set him off, she had another thing-

Wait.

She thought insulting halfbreeds would anger him. Which obviously meant...

She suspected him.

He inwardly cursed, and sent his mind through the connection to Fírnen. The cursing became even more creative once he realised Fírnen was 'out of earshot' so to speak, indicating he had travelled some distance away to hunt. He briefly searched deeply into his own mind, prodding the mass of sentience that was Manin. Who was still asleep.

Merlin, was Manin _snoring? _That was distracting.

Bloody unhelpful dragons, unknowingly abandoning him to this insane pink creature of evil. A sharp elbow to his ribs brought his attention back to the room. The creative curses flitting through his mind once again transformed, this time into downright terrifying swears. He looked questioningly towards Hermione, owner of the ridiculously sharp elbow. "What?" he whispered. She pointedly looked at Umbridge, indicating he had been asked a question, and sent him a worried look. He hurriedly turned his attention to said monstrosity, and saw that she was staring at him expectantly. Why wasn't he able to pay attention to what was going on AND what was happening in his mind? This was getting ridiculous now.

"I'm sorry, Professor, could you repeat the question?" He kept his tone polite and disinterested.

"Of course, dear, but do pay attention. Once more, and I'm afraid I will have to give you detention." Harry's eyebrow twitched at this. Here we go.

"As I said, Mr. Potter, halfbreeds have far less control over their impulses then normal wizards do. That werewolf you had for a teacher a few years ago would have loved to attack any of you. If not for Ministry intervention, you would all still be in danger. That was why he was forced to leave his position. To think he was left to run amok in the grounds. Any one of you children could have been killed. An extremely dangerous individual to be around, wouldn't you say Mr. Potter?"

"Professor Lupin was the best Defence teacher we've ever had," Harry stated, breathing deeply to calm himself before continuing, "He would never have willingly attacked us. He's a good man."

"But werewolves have no control, do they, Mr. Potter? Once a month they are nothing more than rabid animals, and because of this, they are a danger to wizards."

"That's not true," Harry said, anger colouring his tone. He could handle Umbridge insulting him, but not his friends. It was times like this Harry hated his 'saving-people thing'. He was simply incapable of not defending the people he loved. Ron's hand on his shoulder helped, but Harry could feel his control slipping. That famous temper was making itself known. "The only time a werewolf is a danger to wizards is once a month, and now that the Wolfsbane potion exists, not even then."

"But the majority of werewolves cannot afford such a potion," Umbridge informed him with fake sadness. "So they turn into beasts, and slaughter the innocent. Tragic, really, but we cannot risk our own for the sake of a beast."

"The only reason they can't afford the potion is because the Ministry won't allow them to work!" he snarled angrily. "They can't find jobs because of the blatant racism in our community, and because of that, they are forced to live in poverty! If the Ministry wasn't so _stupid-"_

"Detention, Mr. Potter! I will not permit such lies and slander in my classroom-!" she shrieked, although her eyes glinted with malicious triumph.

"Wait, _what?"_

"-For daring to insult the Ministry, and for lack of respect towards your betters!"

"You can't give me a detention for defending an entire species against just because you hate them, and just because the truth puts the Ministry in a bad light!"

Hermione placed a hand on his other shoulder, and together with Ron, and with great difficulty, they pulled Harry back down from where he was rising from his seat. "Calm down Harry!" she hissed, "Don't make it worse!"

Harry sat down, but he felt like hissing at Umbridge. How _dare_ she insult werewolves like that! They had _no_ control over their condition. Being a werewolf was difficult enough already without hateful bitches like the Toad giving them crap.

"I will give detentions to whomever I please," she simpered, "And I do not hate _halfbreeds." _ Harry could see how hard it was for her to say that, "They know there place in our society. They are dangerous, and must be treated as such. All dangers to the Ministry and the Wizarding community must be controlled, and if needs be, _dealt_ with. That is the way things are, Mr. Potter, and you will do well to keep it in mind. I will see you tonight for that detention at seven o'clock. Be late, and I will add another. Now take this note to your Head of House. She must be informed of your transgressions."

Harry glared, and got up, angrily stuffing his unopened book back into his bag. As he marched towards the tiny witch, his hand twitched in the direction of the pocket which held his concealed sword. If only he could decapitate her and get away with it, he would rid the world of this evil sociopath. He watched through narrowed eyes as she scribbled a few sentences on a strip of vibrantly pink paper, and snatched it from her once she held it out to him. As he turned around to leave, he heard her hiss sweetly, but too low for the rest of the class to hear, "You may have the school convinced, but the Ministry knows what a lying brat you are. You think you can stand against the Ministry? You are a fool."

He didn't stop walking. She had got what she wanted. He had snapped. Two months of that bullshit and _one_ mention of Lupin and he goddamn SNAPPED. As he stormed out of the room, he was as angry with himself as he was with Umbridge. He _knew_ she was baiting him, and still he fell for it. How could he have been so stupid? Now he was going to have to endure an evening of cleaning kitten plates! His handsome face marred by a fierce scowl, and his emerald eyes flashing furiously, Harry looked rather intimidating. Why did Hogwarts have to employ crazy teachers out for his blood? It was getting ridiculous now. You'd think after hiring two psychopaths, Dumbledore would have learned to recognise them. Well it's not like he could ask the Headmaster the reasoning behind his decisions. Dumbledore was still ignoring him. And Harry _still _didn't know _why._

* * *

His brisk walk had him at McGonagall's office in no time. He knocked on the door abruptly, and upon hearing her voice telling him to enter, he strode inside. He calmed his outside appearance for her sake, but inside he was still fuming.

"Mr. Potter?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Her eyes quickly flitted over him, checking for injuries, and her eyes fastened on the obnoxious pink slip of paper fluttering in his clenched fist. "I see. I have to say, I expected this would happen. That _woman_ has been out for your blood all year. I have to say, I'm proud at how long you lasted. May I ask what happened?"

"She insulted halfbreeds, went as far as bringing up Professor Lupin and his affliction. So far she's only insulted me, but when she brought up Remus I couldn't stop myself," he said in an angry voice.

McGonagall sighed and rubbed her temples tiredly. "I understand completely, Harry. That woman deserves to be hexed to oblivion. I've had to restrain myself from transfiguring her into a toad on many occasions. The fact that you lasted this long is testament to your self control. Any points lost?"

Harry was staring at her in shock because of her announcement, and cleared his throat. "Umm, no. She just wanted to give me a detention for some reason. I'm not sure, why, but this seems to have been her goal all year. From what I've heard, detention with her isn't even that bad. Just cleaning and stuff."

Professor McGonagall nodded, "Indeed. She has been rather desperate to catch you out, Potter. I suggest you be careful tonight. If she tries to harm you in any way, you must come to me immediately. We cannot get rid of her because of her Ministry status, but perhaps I can reorganise your detention to be held by another Professor." She gave a deep sigh, and Harry gazed at her in concern. It seemed Umbridge's presence was taking its toll on McGonagall's stress levels.

"Don't worry, Professor, I'll be fine."

"See that you are. There's a Quidditch match coming up, and I don't want any detentions getting in the way of that. Professor Snape seems incredibly confident in his team this year. We need to be ready to destroy that confidence and crush all his hopes of winning the cup."

Harry laughed before he could stop himself. McGonagall was known for being strict, but when it came to Quidditch, she was perhaps the most competitive. "Yes, Professor." The bell signalling the end of classes rang out, and McGonagall wearily stood up from her desk.

"Head back to your Common room, Potter. And don't be late for that detention. I understand one detention, that woman is infuriating, but please do try not to fall for it again. She has the Ministry backing her up, and I don't want to see you fall to them because of their manipulations." A pause. "... Be careful, Potter."

He nodded, understanding that she was worried about him, and headed towards Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

Once there he was pounced on by Ron and Hermione, who were both apologising profusely for not helping him enough.

"If only I had said something," Hermione said sadly, "Maybe I could have helped, but I didn't realise you cared so much about the rights of magical creatures, Harry. It was very noble of you to defend them! I know you said you weren't interested in S.P.E.W., but-"

" And that evil woman should never have brought up Professor Lupin!" Ron cut in, "He is a better man then she will ever be." He thought about is words for a moment, "Wait, that came out wrong."

Harry laughed and just shrugged them off. "It's fine, guys. It was my own fault. I knew she was trying to make me angry, hell, she's been trying to piss me off the last two months! But don't worry, it's just a detention. It's not like she's going to torture me."

"Kitten plates, Harry," Ron said seriously, "Kitten plates. And Seamus said the office is pink."

Harry laughed again, but a sense of foreboding was rising within him. He had seen her mind. He _knew _she was insane, but there was no use worrying his friends over it. If things went bad, he had wizarding magic, and ancient magic to bail him out.

And a dragon.

"Guys, don't worry, I'll be fine." He checked his watched, "Dinners in a few minutes. Let's head down now so I can finish some homework before my detention." And after that he could head into the forest. A Horcux awaited him in Gringotts. "What's the worst that could happen?"

* * *

As Harry watched the words 'I must not tell lies' carve themselves into the back of his hand, he cursed himself for asking the Universe stupid questions that proceeded to turn around and bite him in the ass.

The pain was pretty bad, but then again, he had undergone the Cruciatus Curse at the hands of Voldemort. This bitch had nothing on Snake Face. He glared at his hand as the words faded away, leaving his skin unblemished, but red.

"A problem, Mr. Potter?" The hated voice inquired sweetly. Harry contemplated pulling out his wand and putting McGonagall's idea of transfiguring her into a toad into action, but then a better idea came to mind.

"What?" Harry asked, feigning confusion, "Why would there be a problem?" He started to write again, not bothering to look at the parchment. Without him looking, his writing was crooked, and because of this, when the words slashed themselves into his hand, they were in a different place than the last. Obviously the quill was supposed to scar the words into his hand, so why not deliberately mess it up so the words would be illegible?

She faked a laugh, studying his face for a trace of pain.

But Harry knew pain well. He knew how to keep a poker face. She wanted to see his pain? She wasn't going to get it. "There shouldn't be a problem."

"Could the problem possibly be the fact that this quill is using my blood to write my lines? I think it might be defective, Professor. Look." Cackling internally, Harry began to scribble on the page haphazardly. "I don't think the quill is supposed to do this! Whoa, look, my arm is bleeding a lot! Oh no! I scribbled on my lines! Ahh well, now that it's messed up, I might as well put the parchment to some use. I've never told anyone this before, but I'm really good at drawing cats. I see from your wall decorations that you have a curious fascination with them." He began drawing a crude depiction of a cat, managing to keep a straight face. The pain was excruciating now, seeing as how he was now carving up his arm as well as his hand, but Harry figured that Umbridge didn't want anyone to know what she was making him do for his detention. The wounds he was inflicting on himself would undoubtedly remain open if he continued with his method of writing lines, and then Umbridge would be in trouble. She obviously thought he would keep the wounds to himself...

Well actually, he would. As much as he would love to get her fired... McGonagall told him that the Ministry was the reason he was here. If he, the crazy, lying, attention seeking Harry Potter, reported her to the Ministry that hired her in the first place, well let's just say he didn't think it would turn out well for him. No, this would be much better dealt with on his own terms. Perhaps with the help of a certain pair of twins. Oh the possibilities...

That'd teach her to mess with Harry. She thought this little quill would upset him? Bitch please. Try Basilisk venom next time. That shit hurt like a motherfucker.

"See? Isn't it adorable? Agh crap! My hand slipped again! Oh no! I can't stop it! Miss! I don't think my arm should be bleeding this much! You know, you should really test your quills before you give them to a student. Honestly."

"STOP!" Umbridge shrieked, watching in horror as blood began to soak through Harry's jumper sleeves. "Give me that quill, you little masochist!" She snatched it out of his hand with her stubby fingers, and pointed at the door. "Get out! This detention is over!"

Harry shot her a perplexed look, indicating that she was insane by the expression on his face alone, and grabbed his bag before heading out the door. "Alright, Professor. Maybe you should buy some new quills..." Sadist.

Once outside the office, Harry couldn't help but laugh. She thought she'd had him with a little pain? She was under the impression that a quill would break him. Well she was in for a surprise. He wasn't some weak child. He was a Dragonrider. He had faced Voldemort on countless occasions and survived. He'd killed a fucking Basilisk! ... And then proceeded to get poisoned by it. But that didn't matter! This was nothing. This was-

'HARRY! WHY ARE YOU IN PAIN?!'

Ah shit, Fírnen.

'I go away for ONE day, and you get injured. I'm coming to the school. I will burn it to the ground and _rip_ apart whoever did this to you!'

'Dude, calm down!' Harry sent back. 'I'm fine. Look, I'm healing it now.' Pushing his sleeve up, and holding his silver marked palm over his tattooed arm, Harry whispered, "Waíse heill!" A bright light shone from his palm, and he watched as the wound closed up. As soon as it was done, a deep tiredness filled him. 'Whoa,' he sent dizzily, 'Manin was right, Life Magic's take energy. Man that sucks...'

'Who did this? The toad-woman?'

Harry sighed, and began walking towards the Gryffindor common room. 'Sort of. I kinda did it to myself.' He quickly sent the memory to Fírnen, smiling when he sensed the amusement emanating from the dragon.

'I will still wish to kill her, but I admit, your method was rather entertaining. You plan to torture her instead? With the help of those red-furred children? I see endless possibilities.'

Harry smirked to himself, reaching the Fat Lady's portrait and climbing inside. "Indeed."

'So I don't need to destroy the school?'.

Harry smiled at the comforting presence filling his mind. 'Nope. I need grab the cloak and some other stuff, and then I'll come see you. We fly to Gringotts tonight.'

**I'll be on my week long midterm next weekend, so we'll see if my laziness takes over again or not XD Thanks for reading and not giving up on me. The reviews asking for updates managed to convince me to update EVENTUALLY. Sorry if there's any plot holes but I haven't written in ages and I hate reading back over my own work coz it makes me think it's crap. Next chapter is Gringotts break in. Dunno if I said that last chapter... Ahh well.**

**HAPPY FEBRUARY! **


	12. Chapter 12

**In case you hadn't noticed, I changed my name from InfinityDragon394 to SinSidhe (pronounced Shin-she) Woo irish! That reminds me, HAVE A GOOD PADDY'S DAY! DON'T GET TOO DRUNK! XD**

Sneaking out of the castle to meet Fírnen in the forest was a piece of cake after 4 years of practice. Harry kept his footsteps silent as he ghosted past Hagrid's hut, shifting the backpack on his shoulder into a more comfortable position.

'Would you hurry up? The goblins said to be at the bank by 01:00. The glass ceiling of the Meeting Room will only be enchanted for one minute. If we miss that, well… we'll have to break the bank…"

Harry rolled his eyes, entering the forest and starting to a run. 'We are NOT breaking the bank! And I read the bleeding letter too, Fír, I know what it said.' The letter, which had arrived along with the note requesting their 'shady withdrawal' from Gringotts, contained instructions on how they could enter the bank without causing doom and destruction, but also without causing the Aurors to doubt the validity of the robbery. It would have to be reported, as the owners of the vault would be notified as soon as it was breached by someone other than the family, so they had to make it look real. Fírnen seemed to think 'authentic' meant 'explosions'

After a few minutes of swift running, Harry reached Fírnen's clearing. Upon his arrival, Fírnen vacated the warmth of his tree house and glided down to the forest floor. Harry immediately grinned, cloak and bag dropping to the ground as he tackled Fírnen in a bear hug. He buried his face in the warm scales at Fírnen's jaw, and sighed contentedly as the dragon began to hum happily, wrapping his tail around Harry who was still clinging to his neck like a limpet.

"Wish I could move into the Tree house," Harry mumbled, gripping Fírnen's neck even tighter for a moment before releasing him and hurrying over to pick up his bag and pack the cloak into it.

'People would notice if you relocated to the forest,' Fírnen reminded him sadly, 'And with that Toad-woman stalking you, I could be discovered. Personally, I think we should disregard secrecy and let me eat the psychopath, but SOMEONE won't let me.'

"If we kill her then the Ministry will get even more annoying, if that's even possible. And then the Prophet would come snooping around, and again, you could be discovered."

'So no moving house.'

"I can still sneak out some nights…"

'Yes, I know. You've been doing it the past two months. You're such a Drama Queen sometimes. Why are we even having this conversation? We need to go. Thievery, plundering and pillaging awaits us.'

"I'm NOT a Drama Queen!" Harry grumped, "I just have a temper! And a tendency to brood… and… angst is practically my middle name... Wait! That was last year! I'm not a Drama Queen anymore! HOW DARE YOU!?"

Fírnen just sighed, and shook his emerald head. 'Just get on my back, Midget, I think that blood loss affected your brain. You're acting even odder than usual. Goddamn wizards.'

Harry scowled before growing serious again. "You sure you're ready for this? If you want I can cast the Featherlight charm on myself. That way-"

'No!' Fírnen growled, 'What kind of dragon cannot carry his own Rider? I am ready, Harry. I have waited to fly with you my whole life. It is time.'

Harry nodded, and swallowed nervously. He trusted Fírnen. Merlin he trusted him, but the prospect of flying on a dragon was more than a little nerve wracking. What if he was too heavy? He KNEW he shouldn't have eaten all that food at dinner.

'Oh for the love of– Get on!'

Harry hurried over, and hauled himself onto Fírnen's back. After transfiguring his trousers to make them thicker, he grabbed hold of one of the spikes that protruded along Fírnen's spine with a death grip. He swallowed again, but this time with excitement. Sitting there, with his mind merging with Fírnen's, he suddenly felt complete, and all his doubts melted away. It was as if this was how he was supposed to be. He knew Fírnen felt the same, judging by the joy that was freely flowing across the bond, and a happy smile appeared on Harry's face.

"Okay, let's get this show on the road! TONIGHT, WE FLY!"

'Drama Dueen.'

Flying with Fírnen… Harry didn't think he had words to describe it. Amazing, beautiful, fantastic, none of them fit. Perhaps freedom? He had never felt so happy and carefree, so far away from control and manipulation. Just being. In the sky, he and Fírnen were one. There was nothing distinguishing them as different individuals. Their minds were one, and everything was perfect.

They soared through the frigid air, diving and twisting, flying as fast as they could, and then allowing the updrafts to keep them airborne as they were propelled across the night sky. They flew at incredible speeds, and they were thankful for the sticking spells they had cast on their human body so they didn't fall off. So fast, in fact, that all too soon they were in London, circling over the orange balls of light that were the vast city. It was not difficult to spot the magical section of the city. To a dragon's eyes, it glowed even brighter than the muggle lights. The wards pulsed and glistened, colourful flashes here and there as they rejected muggles, and protected those within them. As they flew towards the spot they knew the goblin bank was situated, their minds separated.

Harry blinked from his place on Fírnen's back, immediately shivering in the freezing autumn air, casting warming charms on himself and Fírnen with numb fingers.

'As soon as I've cast the Disillusionment Spell, circle the roof until it's 01:00,' Harry sent. Fírnen agreed silently, and after squirming when the spell was cast, he lowered their altitude, flying so low down that any lower, and quite a number of building would have been demolished. Dragon + roof = splinters.

Casting a Tempus charm, Harry smiled, seeing that it was 12:58. 'Get ready Fír, it's almost time.'

Flying through the wards, they circled the bank, Harry keeping an eye on the time, and Fírnen getting ready to dive. Hopefully the goblins hadn't forgotten about the plan. If they had, well, Harry had no intention of paying the bill for the broken window. He was trying to rob the bank, not fix it up.

12:59.

'You ready, Fír?'

'This has got to be the most idiotic thing that we have done yet. And that includes you carving cartoon cats into your arm.'

'Almost time.'

'I swear, I will end you if I get glass shards in my teeth. Not my pride and joy, bitch.'

'10 seconds. It'll be fine, Fír.'

'My body is ready.'

'5.'

'I hate goblins.'

'4.'

'I'm going down'

'3.'

'Glass.'

'2.'

'Incoming!'

'1.'

And they passed through the glass like it wasn't there. In the exact same way Fírnen had entered before. Not one problem. Fírnen landed on the marble floor gracefully, disillusioned wings folding tightly to his body. Harry banished the sticking charms and slid off, gazing back up at the ceiling that was once again made of impenetrable glass.

'Well, that was a lot less dramatic than I thought it would be. Robbing banks isn't as much fun when you're allowed to rob it.'

Fírnen laughed, and swivelled his serpentine head around to examine the lone goblin that was slipping out of the room, his task completed. The door closed softly behind him, and Harry pulled the backpack over his shoulder, removing the Invisibility Cloak, and draping it over himself.

'Alright, my turn. Don't forget to stay in here and avoid being seen. We don't want anyone coming across an invisible dragon meandering the tunnels. Ragnok did say that there were a few human employees that sometimes stay late. Hilarious if I ran into Bill. Odds of that, though.'

'Be careful, Harry. You have half an hour to get in and then back here. Again, I think I should bring up my reluctance to get a facefull of glass shards. Please be on time. If you come across any trouble, I will kill you. Keep that in mind.'

Harry smiled softly, and stroked Fírnen's nose. 'I'll be back in no time. Try not to get bored while I have all the fun.'

After picking up two objects that were left for him on a table, he was across the room, slipping out into the dimly lit corridor, and heading for the carts that travelled along the tracks that connected all the vaults in the underground maze. He remained quiet, pleased that his training over the summer had granted him such useful skills.

When the invisible and silent Harry reached the tracks, he clambered into a cart that was parked on it, that was 'conveniently' placed just at the end of the corridor the Meeting Room was situated in. After a few moments examining both the cart and the memories of his previous Gringotts adventures, Harry pulled a lever, and he was off. He sat back, patiently waiting the journey out, smirking slightly at the fact that the cart was 'conveniently' taking him to the vault he wished to go to. Goblin intervention certainly made this adventure simple. Harry was pleased with how easy it was, yet he was also a bit saddened by the fact that he didn't actually need to do anything. This was proving to be an easy, and therefore boring, mission.

He was brought out of his internal monologue by the jolt that signalled the cart had reached his destination. He got up and furled the cloak more tightly around, making absolutely certain that none of him was visible. Examining his surroundings, he saw that they were as bland and forgettable as the other corridors. Most likely a method of causing prospective thieves to become lost and confused.

Following the dimly lit corridor, and turning at the correct corners, following the directions sent along with the plan, Harry found himself approaching a cavern. Once again following instructions, Harry removed a pair of curious devices that he had been left in the meeting room. They were metal and heavy, and produced a clanking sound when moved. His instructions had been to use them upon entering the room to drive back the caverns defences. Harry shrugged, and as the room began to lighten, he shook them experimentally.

And oh Merlin, did he regret it.

The heart-breaking cry the sound of those cruel metal devices caused the magnificent creature to emit effected Harry so much that without a second thought, the offending items were thrust back into the bag, out of earshot. Harry stared at the creature before him.

It was a dragon. So similar to his Fírnen, and yet so different. A quick probe of his mind, and he found it was wild. Mad. Insane. It had the intelligence of an animal, nothing like its' noble and powerful ancestors. Nothing like how it should be.

The horror and disgust that welled up inside Harry was only partly his. Fírnen, who was watching everything through Harry, was so shocked, that he couldn't even formulate words.

"Oh Merlin," Harry whispered, the urge to vomit strong. However, all other thoughts were wiped from his mind as the faded red scaled head whipped around to focus on him. A menacing growl erupted from its throat, and it began to advance out of the alcove it had fled to upon hearing the metallic clanking. Harry examined the scarred, mutilated face. He saw its eyes, which were milky and most likely blind, and its dull scales, chalky from lack of light and care.

It bared its teeth, preparing to breathe fire with which to incinerate the threat, when Harry did the only thing he could think to do. He spoke to it in its mind.

'Please, I am a friend,' he said in the Ancient Language, pushing down his fear, 'I will not harm you. I am here to set you free.'

Immediately after he spoke in the Ancient Language, the dragon's mind became more focused. Almost sentient even. The pain and hopelessness that was the dragon's state of being receded for a moment, and Harry got the shock of his life when he heard words, quiet and paper thin, drifted into his own mind.

'_Broken…_ '

Harry restrained himself from sobbing outright at the loss that followed those words. Oh god, what had happened to this dragon?

'What's broken? I will help, I promise.'

'_Br-broken… link… gone_…'

The dragon made an odd sound, and Harry realised it was a whimper. A moment later, and he felt the dragon's consciousness flow over to him. It was sad and defeated, and Harry enveloped it with his own, trying to convey love and comfort. The poor creature.

He was surprised when the dragon seemed to become more alert, aware even, and was even more surprised when the mind he had wrapped with his own spoke more clearly, seemingly improved with the contact of Harry's mind.

'_Good… magic… missing… Shur'tugal… help_…'

The sense of loss was back, and Harry blinked eyes that had suddenly begun to sting. He approached the huge creature, and held up a hand. The old dragon lowered itself onto its belly, and rested its' head on the ground, leaving Harry to place his hand on top of it. He did so, and watched as the dragon closed its eyes, seemingly at peace. Jumbled emotions, and the occasional word in the Ancient language flitted through its thoughts. Under all that, Harry could sense that for some reason, a key component of the dragons mind was missing. Its mind was broken and feral. Untamed and out of control. Almost like the most important piece of the jigsaw puzzle had been removed, leaving everything else to fall apart.

It was devastating.

'Are all dragons like this?' Harry whispered across the Fírnen.

'I believe so… This is what has become of my kind…'

Harry inhaled shakily, and closed his eyes briefly, opening them to stare up at the ceiling. 'I'll get the Horcrux, and then we're setting it free. I'll just have to send an apology letter to the goblins. I can't imagine them sending us down here knowing there was a dragon, and then not expecting us to release it. No, they must want us too. Obviously.'

'I agree. Hurry and get the Horcrux. We have fifteen minutes left. You need to hurry.'

After explaining to the dragon that he was fetching something from a vault, Harry removed his hand from the dragons head and walked over to the Lestrange Vault. The dragon lumbered after him, and kept its' mind enveloped in Harry's. To be honest, it reminded Harry of something that had been cold for too long, burrowing towards warmth. It was comforted by Harry, and he could tell that somehow, his presence was keeping the madness and pain at bay.

Laying a hand on the metal door of the vault, Harry closed his eyes. It was time to work his magic.

Whispering words under his breathe, Harry allowed his magic to blossom out and enter the door, overloading the spells that required the vault holder and a goblin to be present in order for the door to open. A minute later, and the door melted back, revealing a room filled with priceless treasures. After removing his wand and whispering the spell that would stop the vaults defences from attacking him, Harry entered and studied the room. The dragon placed its head outside the door, searching the room with a milky, sightless eye, before once again closing it, and returning to basking in Harry's presence.

Another minute, and the cup was located. A quick expedition, wherein Harry scaled mountains of gold and silver, and the cup was in his hand.

If it had not contained a piece of Voldemort's soul, he would have thought it was rather beautiful.

Mission accomplished, and cup in bag, Harry exited the vault, allowing it to close behind him, but only after picking up a black, full-face mask with green filigree around the edges, that was balanced precariously on a shelf.

A sigh flowed across the bond from Fírnen. 'You're about to indulge that Saving-People Complex you have, aren't you? Woe is me.'

'You okay with waiting outside? You're gonna need to catch me when I fall.'

'As soon as the glass is gone, I'll be outside. You might as well start now. Good luck.'

After removing the cloak so it wouldn't get in the way, and placing the mask on his face, Harry palmed his wand in one hand, and extended that and the hand that bore the gedwëy ignasia towards the caverns roof.

"Well," he muttered, "Here goes nothing."

With that, he unleashed a torrent of spells, hurling magic at the rock, creating a tunnel to the surface. On and on it went, and Harry could hear alarms and yelling voices blaring in the distance. This he ignored, choosing to keep all his attention on creating an escape route. The dragon could sense freedom approaching, but chose to stay with Harry.

'I'm outside,' Fírnen sent, 'You might want to hurry. A crapload of Aurors just apparated outside Gringotts. I don't imagine you have much time.'

'Gimme a minute… almost there… Done!"

The orange glow of streetlamps in the night could be seen at the end of the newly made tunnel, and Harry grinned beneath the mask.

"HALT! THIEF! YOU ARE UNDER ARREST! GOBLINS, CONTROL YOUR BEAST!"

Harry cursed as Aurors and goblins alike flocked into the cavern. Harry rapidly considered a number of plans before deciding on his best one. Without further ado, he shot the assembled Aurors pointing their wands at him a one fingered salute, bowed to the Goblins, and with a running leap (front flip included) he landed gracefully on the dragon's back. It didn't take much encouragement to urge the dragon into unfurling its large wings, and taking off out of the tunnel. Useless spells struck the dragons armoured belly, and Harry laughed as the orange light came closer and closer until they were out, souring through the chilly London air. A few more suggestions later, and the red dragon was climbing higher.

Harry sensed rather than saw Fírnen join them, and after explaining briefly what he was doing to the dragon, Harry leapt from its back, and onto Fírnen's who was flying below them.

"I think it's time to head home," Harry stated calmly, "That's enough action for one day."

'Yes,' Fírnen agreed, 'We need to save some for tomorrow.'

Harry laughed into the night air, and gazed back at the red dragon that was now following them, nuzzling up to both Harry's and Fírnen's minds.

"Hey Fír, I'd say the Forbidden Forest is big enough for two dragons, what do you think?"

'I think that this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. We're gonna be the perfect Christmas decorations.'

**Another chapter finished. Finally, an update! I know, I'm shocked too. More next week, most probably I hope ;)**


	13. Chapter 13

**I HATH RETURNED! ALL SHALL BOW BEFORE SINSIDHE! WORLDS BEST PROCRASTINATOR EVERRRR!**

**Yeah, sorry about the insanely long wait. I had work to do, and then I was too tired to bother doing anymore writing XD Good news everyone, summer holidays in a month for me, three months of story time. BAH HAHAHAHA**

Harry woke up abruptly when Fírnen landed. Shaking his head like a wet dog in an attempt to banish his tiredness, Harry looked around the clearing in which Fírnen's home was located. He reached up and removed the black mask from his face. It glistened slightly in the moonlight, and Harry wondered about the history of such an object. He might as well keep using it. It protected his identity, and so it protected Fírnen. He shoved it into his backpack before he heard another heavy thud behind him, and Harry jerked his head around to see the large, red dragon collapse to the ground, exhausted and trembling from its long flight. Harry cursed, and leapt of Fírnen, stumbling slightly as he hit the ground, his legs having gone numb during his sleep. In a flash, he was at the poor beast's side, running his hands over the chalky scales, soothing the dragon as it took in its surroundings.

"Hey hey hey," Harry said softly, stroking the red dragons snout, smiling as it began to hum happily, "You're safe now. You can sleep in the Tree house. Come on, it's just over there. Just a little bit longer and you can rest."

The dragon whined tiredly, but slowly lumbered ungracefully to its feet, obediently following Harry as he walked over to Fírnen's tree. Reaching it, Harry quickly climbed upwards until he was perched on the ledge that was the entrance to the shelter. A few minutes of encouragement and guiding thoughts, and the red dragon had successfully jumped/flown into the Tree House. Some more beckoning and encouragement, and Harry managed to get the creature nestled into the bowl shaped depression in the floor that was full of soft pillows and blankets he had brought for Fír to make his bed more comfortable.

Harry stumbled forward slightly as Fírnen nudged his back, having followed them into his house. 'Looks like my bed has been commandeered,' he sent humorously. Harry laughed softly as he watched the huge red dragon yawn cutely before tucking its head under a pale red wing. Within seconds, it was asleep.

"This is the saddest thing I have seen in my life," Harry whispered, gazing at the injured creature before kneeling down so he could touch the wooden floor. He began to sing softly, and watched with satisfaction as the bowl-bed grew larger so as to accommodate more than one dragon. "That better?" Fírnen nodded his emerald head wordlessly, and curled up beside the red dragon whose body still trembled even in sleep. Harry sighed and closed his eyes in contemplation.

'No, Harry,' Fírnen interrupted in his mind, having been scanning what Harry was thinking. 'You're too tired. Get some sleep first before you try anything.'

"How am I supposed to sleep when this poor creature is in this state?" Harry whispered sharply, his eyes flashing open. "Look at its scales! It's probably never even flown before in its life before tonight..."

'He,' Fírnen corrected, 'He's male. And I know. Just thinking that one of my kin, no matter how different to me he is, has suffered this much makes me want to destroy every Goblin in existence. This happened in _their _bank. How DARE they have treated me with such respect when they had him locked in the vaults.'

Harry ran a hand through his hair, and crawled over to the dragons, sliding down the side of the bowl so he was leaning against Fírnen's leg but still in arms reach of the red dragons head. He began to stroke the dull scales again, and the red dragon shuffled closer to him in his sleep. Harry swallowed painfully at the sight, and furrowed his brow in determination.

"It doesn't matter if I'm tired, Fír," Harry muttered, "I will not allow him to suffer any longer. I have to try." Harry placed his hand, the one that shone with the gedwëy ignasia, on one of the rough scales of the red dragons neck. He took a deep breath, before whispering, "Waíse heill." Under his hand, once dull, chalky, barely red scales morphed into bright, blood red ones. They were shiny, and resembled ruby gemstones. Already Harry could feel the drain on his magic reserves. Life Magic was once again proving to be the most difficult of all magic types to cast. Harry ignored his rising levels of tiredness, and continued to run his hands over the dragons scales, smile widening as more scales were transformed into their gem-like true forms.

The dragon was extremely large, and as Harry continued his healing, he was thankful that he had thought to make the Tree House so large. While singing it out of the tree, he had remembered Manin's warnings about how fast a dragon matured, and so had made a home that wouldn't need to be changed as Fírnen grew larger as he aged.

Harry's hands started to tremble with fatigue, and he began to develop tunnel vision before Fírnen intervened, adding his own strength to the spell. Harry wasn't sure how long it took, possibly hours for all he knew, before he collapsed beside the dragon's head, finally finished. Breathing heavily, Harry propped himself up on his elbows, running a hand down his sweaty face. "Done."

'Well done, Little One.' Fírnen's presence in Harry's mind soothed him, and he allowed his eyes to flutter close. 'I do not know how our new friend managed to sleep through all of that.'

"Probably the first good sleep he's ever had. And he just flew all the way from London to Scotland. I still don't know how dragons are able to fly so fast."

'We fly through a combination of magic and physical movement. Manin has told you that, by my count, fourteen times already.'

"Ugghhh, begone with your intelligence. I want to sleep," Harry groaned, wincing as aching muscles were pulled as he stood up. "At least he's pretty now. Extreme Makeover's got nothing on me, bitch." Fírnen laughed one of his dragon laughs. Indeed, the once chalky red scales now glistened beautifully in the moonlight. The red dragon now looked how he would have look had he been raised above ground and on a good diet. Harry noted that he was rather thin. "You should take him hunting tomorrow. Teahing him the ways of the dragon. Become his draconic mentor. Master Fírnen. Be sure to stay connected with his mind though. It's a mess in there..."

Fírnen sighed, and tilted his head in the direction of exit. 'You should get back to school, Harry. At this rate you'll only get about three hours sleep tonight. And you have double DADA tomorrow. You know you get grumpy when you're sleep deprived,'

"Grrrr, I don't get grumpy," Harry growled, and then paused. "Wait, nevermind."

Fírnen laughed again, and pushed him out of the nest. 'Get back to school, midget.'

Harry rolled his eyes, and hugged Fírnen's neck fiercely. "I'll be back tomorrow to check on you and Mr. Snooze over there. I'll come up with a name for him tomorrow. Hey, do you think I'd be able to convince a centaur to give me a lift back to the castle? Now that I'm a Dragonrider, they all think I'm really cool."

'That's because they don't know you, Harry.'

"Hey!"

'Goodbye, Harry.'

Grumbling, Harry rolled his shoulders, scowling as he remembered what was currently in his backpack. "I'll leave the Hor-Sux here. The destruction of the locket was rather violent, and I'd rather destroy this piece of crap when my eyelids aren't attempting to blind me. Think you'll be okay with it so nearby?"

'I was not the one who fell for the locket's manipulations last time. Before you destroy it, please practice some more Occlumency with Snape.'

Harry groaned again at the thought of Snape's extra lessons. Their relationship may have improved A LOT, but Snape like to teach Harry through a combination of useful information, and 'Haha Harry is a loser' rants. The greasy bat was a difficult person to deal with...

"Fiiine, I'm going. Later, you big, fat, lizard." Harry jumped out of the Tree House before Fírnen could smite him with his tail, cackling manically as he went. He landed in a crouch on the leafy forest floor, bent knees absorbing the impact of his fall. He quickly set of at a brisk sprint, reasoning that the faster he got back to the castle, the sooner he could sleep away the horrendous exhaustion that was wracking his hybrid body.

* * *

By the time Harry reached the entrance to the Gryffindor Common room, wrapped in his Invisibility Cloak, he was seconds away from keeling over. Having extreme trouble keeping his eyes open, Harry banged his head against the Fat Lady's portrait, managing to mutter the password amidst his curses, before crawling trough, ignoring the painting's grumblings. He stumbled out into the dimly lit room, and dragged his feet in the direction of the staircase, thoughts focused solely on the warm bed awaiting him. He was so focused on his bed, that he failed to notice a figure springing to their feet from one of the armchairs beside the fire, and lunging at his invisible form.

"Huh?-AGH!" Harry yelled, as he was tackled to the floor by none other than Hermione.

"Ron! Wake up! I caught him!" Hermione called to Ron, who leapt out of the chair he had been snoring in, blearily taking in the sight of Hermione seemingly seated on thin air.

"Hey mate."

"Wha-GET OFF ME, HERMIONE! Jeez, why did you attack me?!"

"Don't you take that tone with me, Harry James Potter! Ron told me you've been sneaking out during the night since the start of the year. We decided that we would wait for you tonight so we could interrogate you about where you've been going. This is all your fault, you know! Making us worry! Have you joined a gang?"

Harry sputtered incoherently, his sluggish brain trying to deal with the fact that RON, of all people, had noticed him sneaking out. "What- a gang?! What the hell?! Why would I- You didn't have to TACKLE ME!"

Hermione harrumphed, and grudgingly stood up, pulling the Cloak off of Harry as she went. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"Well, where have you been going!" Hermione exclaimed in exasperation. "Merlin, Harry, do you have any idea how worried we are? Sneaking out all the time, always seeming tired, your change during the summer? Please Harry, just tell us what's going on!"

Harry gulped at the upset Hermione, and slightly frowning Ron. Both of them were dressed in their pyjamas, and Harry didn't doubt that they had been waiting up for him since he left earlier in the night. _'Should I tell them what's going on? I don't want to scare them. They'll be so worried. Wait, they already ARE worried. How can I explain any of this? "Hey guys, wanna go for a ride on my dragon?"'_

Harry sighed, and sat up, absently taking his backpack of his shoulders and shoving his Cloak inside. Fírnen had told him to tell them, but what if they freaked out? He carefully examined their worried faces, and made his decision.

"Umm, well, you know the way I changed during the summer? Err, this wasn't all," he said, gesturing to his face and body. "I also got these." With a wave of his hand, the glamour concealing his ears dissipated, and Ron and Hermione gasped in surprise.

"An-an elf?" Hermione stuttered, thoroughly shocked. Ron however, just gazed at Harry in confusion.

"You got a creature inheritance? Why didn't you tell us? They're not THAT big a deal. Sure, Purebloods get all high and mighty about wizard hybrids, but since when have you cared about that?"

"It wasn't a creature inheritance," Harry sighed. "I changed because, I, well..."

"Harry, just tell us!"

"I... I'm a Dragonrider..."

As expected, Harry received incredulous looks.

"Isn't that..." Ron whispered, "... bestiality?"

"Ron!" Hermione yelled, "You're so stupid!" She facepalmed before turning to Harry again. "Are you serious? I thought Dragonriders were extinct! How is this even possible!? Where's your dragon? Is it male or female? What colour is it? Can it talk? I read in a book, one on magical creatures, that Dragonriders were leaders of Magical Creatures before they disappeared thousands of years ago! They were said to possess the most potent magic to ever exist! Some said Merlin was a Dragonrider! HOW IS THIS EVEN POSSIBLE?!-"

"HERMIONE!" Harry yelled, and she sheepishly fell silent. "If you'd let me SPEAK, I could tell you! And you actually knew all this already? Merlin, Fírnen TOLD me not to be so worried..."

"Sorry," she said, and stared at him in contemplation. "... And you didn't tell us until now becaaaause?"

Harry scratched a pointed ear sheepishly, drawing his friends attention towards them once again.

"Can I touch them?" Ron asked unexpectedly. Harry nodded, and Ron walked over and stared at Harry's ears silently for a moment. Then he flicked one of them, painfully.

"OW! What the hell, Ron! Jesus!"

"Sorry mate," Ron laughed, "But you deserved that. Secrets can destroy friendships, Harry, and I don't know about you, but I kinda like this friendship."

Harry grumbled at him, scowled fiercely, and rubbed his now red ear. "You're such an asshole sometimes, Ron." Ron just grinned cheekily, and went back over to the sofa. Hermione returned to her seat also, and Harry sprawled in front of the fire and stared at the softly glowing embers.

"So... how did it happen?"

"Well, at the start of the summer, I found a green stone..."

It took over an hour for Harry to get through the whole story, but by the end, Ron and Hermione knew everything.

"Blimey mate. These Horcrux', they sound really dark. And you've already destroyed one, and got another in your secret hideout?"

Harry nodded, and sighed as he gazed out of the window. "I dunno about you guys, but I'm gonna go grab that hour or so of sleep." They both nodded at him, eyes extremely wide, and stood up, heading towards their dormitories.

"Wait, Harry," Hermione said softly, "Before you go, can I see Manin?"

Harry smiled slightly, and removed his shirt, revealing the dragon that decorated his skin. "Trying to get me out of my clothes?"

Hermione shot him a glare and slapped him upside the head, and glanced at Ron before returning her attention to the dragon. "This is amazing..."

"I am, aren't I?"

Ron rolled his eyes, and ruffled his orange hair, yawning widely, "Shut up, mate."

* * *

Harry's head collided with his desk with an ominous _thunk._

"Harry, stop it. Professor Umbridge will be here in a second. Don't give her any reason to give you another detention."

Harry smirked at the thought, recalling the look on Dumbridge's face when he had carved those cats into his arm. Although it had been rather painful, winding her up had been worth it.

Ignoring Hermione, Harry wrapped his arms around his head, blocking all the light from his vision and snuggling into his jumper sleeves. He was extremely tired, why should he not rest until the toad arrived? Unfortunately, Umbridge chose that exact moment to enter the classroom. Harry winced as the door slammed loudly, and he reluctantly raised his head, wincing as his vision was assaulted by her disgustingly pink clothes.

"Good morning, class," she simpered.

"Good morning, Professor."

She smiled sweetly, toad-like eyes bulging with pleasure.

Already bored and looking for entertainment, Harry began to plot. Just as an idea began to form in his mind, a wad of paper smacked him in the side of his head. Snarling, Harry looked around to see Goyle laughing at him, obviously extremely proud that he had managed to hit Harry.

Harry narrowed his eyes, and scanned the classroom. Umbridge had made her way to the front of the class, and was directing a piece of pink chalk to start writing notes on the black board. His fellow students were either staring at the board with unfocused eyes, or at random bricks in the walls, mouths agape with boredom. An evil smile made its way onto Harry's face. _Perfect._

Placing both of his elbows on the table so his wandless hands were in full view of the room, Harry carefully aimed his glamoured silver palm in Goyle's direction. Said brute sat back in his chair, and smiled stupidly at Harry, as if daring him to retaliate. Smirking, Harry waved at him cheerfully, and whispered a few words in the Ancient language.

Goyle's pale face suddenly turned bright red, and he leapt up out of his chair.

Umbridge looked up sharply at the movement, and seeing that it was a Slytherin, fixed a soothing smile on her face. "Is everything alright, dear?"

Goyle's idiotic face grew even redder, and he looked to be constipated. Draco glanced up at his 'friend' curiously, then at Harry. Harry smirked darkly at him, before returning his attention to Goyle, and expectant look on his face.

"Gregory?" Umbridge asked with fake concern, slowly approaching the large brute. Goyle remained silent until she was directly in front of him, and then-

"BUCUUUUUUUCK!"

Umbridge screamed at the unexpected chicken noise that assaulted her eardrums, and stumbled backwards, tripping over a school bag and landing on the floor in a heap. The entire class, even the Slytherins, erupted with howls of laughter, Harry actually falling off of his chair and onto the floor, were he proceeded to roll around, clutching his stomach and laughing uncontrollably.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!"

"BUCUUUUUUUCK!"

"STOP THAT NOISE AT ONCE!"

"BUCUUUUUUUCK!"

"I ORDER YOU TO BE SILENT!"

"BUCUUUUUUUCK!"

"MR. MALFOY! Escort your friend to the Hospital Wing AT ONCE!"

"BUCUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!"

"Yes, Professor Umbridge," Malfoy said, his face calm except for his cheeks which were twitching with suppressed laughter. He may hate Potter, but seeing Goyle, who was so stupid it was difficult to be around him, squawking like a demented chicken, was beyond hilarious.

Draco led Goyle out of the room, closing the door behind them, and the laughter in the class continued as muffled "BUCUUUUUUUCK's made themselves heard.

"SILENCE!" Umbridge shrieked, "I WILL HAVE ORDER!"

Harry pulled himself back into his seat, and covered his face with his hands, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

Slowly, the class calmed down, and Umbridge ran stubby hands down her clothes, patting away and dirt that may have lingered on it from her contact with the floor.

"I demand that whoever cast that spell come forward right this moment. If they do not, I will be testing wands to find the origin of the spell." No hands were raised, and Umbridge smiled sadistically. "Very well."

Immediately, she walked over to Harry, and held a hand out for his wand. He handed it to her readily, and watched her face turn an impressive shade of purple as his wand showed the last spell he had used, a tickling hex he had cast on Ron that morning for trying to steal his socks since he hadn't washed any of his own.

She glared at him furiously, before proceeding to check every wand in the room. By the time she was finished, having found no evidence of the spell used on Goyle on anyone's wand, her face was contorted with fury.

"I see," she whispered venomously, yet with a smile. "Know that whoever you are, I WILL find out who you are. I will not tolerate such behaviour in my class, and you WILL suffer the consequences for your actions,-"

Harry held his hand in her direction, and frowned in concentration.

"-Now we will continue our studies on- RIBBIT!"

**Such a weird chapter. Next chapter will be set during Christmas and a bit of plot development :) Thanks for reading.**


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